LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. dl^iijuL.-^ioiii^ngj^t %» Shelf..J±aG5 UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. ^:^' FAITH, Nor can I scan her coming destiny ; Yet* one thing I believe : she will be strong To do or suffer her great Maker's will, Within this world ; and dying bear to Heav'n A spirit that to earth is seldom giv'n. ( The enter the church and the habe is haptlzid. ) The minister prays : O ! Thou in Heav'n whose word did once proclaim To favor Abram for his faith in Thee, Grant that this child in nature as in name May prove e'er faithful in all things to be. While yet a babe may she unconscious turn The hearts of those who prize her towards Thy throne ; While but a child may her young sx)irit barn To be belov'd of Thee, and of Thine own. When youth its snares around shall smiling cast, And pleasure wooes her from Thy loved control, O ! guard her 'till its dangers all are past. And firmly fixed on Thee is her young soul. 'Mid all life's trials may she faithful stand Firm by Thy Word, how hard so e'er it be ; And when fulfilled is all life's mission grand, O ! take her safely up to Heav'n and Thee. on EARTHLY PARADISE. 11 Angels sing : How we love her ! How we love her ! She is almost all our own, For we only lend her to you Prom around the Glory-throne. It was here she found her beauty, It was here she gained her worth, And she is a jirecious treasure Far too bright for scenes of earth. How we love her ! How we love her ! Mortals strive to prize her well, For the grandeur of her mission Ne'er on earth your hearts can tell : But when you have reached the City Where she dwelt with us above, You shall know her priceless value, And the why of God's great Love. Scene; III. — A Summer's Morning — Faith at play in the yard. Mary., alone: How sweet she looks ! Her little l)onnet tied Encircling all her face, as hazy ring Sometimes surrounds the full-orbed moon, which shines 12 FAITH, Within the circle like a diamond glows When clasped in golden setting. Now she jDlucks A tiower from off its stem, then waits to see How many snowy petals shower down A.t her light touch ; then chases for awhile The butterlly that erst had stopped to sip That ilow'ret's dewy moisture. Like a sprite, Her little apron llutt' ring in the breeze -As spirit- wings, she passes 'mongst the shrubs. And looks uj) wond'ring at the blossoming trees, Her little heart all throb])ing with deep love For God' s great volume spread before her eyes. 'Twas but this morn she came and asked me why There was such music 'mongst the trees' tall boughs Whene'er the wind was passing; and how long ' Twould be before the birds would answer back The song she sings for them ; and why the liow'rs So sparkle when the sun begins to shine ? Her ear detects the slightest llutt' ring of The humming-bird, and when the bees rove off To gather golden treasures for the hive. She throws a piece of netting o'er her face. And patient waits to "see how honey's made." She stands beside the silver stream and lists OK EARTHLY PARADISE. 13 As though she heard some meaning in its tone Inaudible to other ears ; and when The stars are shining bright on cloudless eve, She gazes for awhile, then questions how ' ' The angels take their lamps from out the sky When morning comes ? ' ' She never seems alone : Tlie world and all therein to her appears As some vast Exposition, full of things So ])right and beautiful she never grows Imjiatient in her searches, but believes ^ All things created by a Father's hand. And all full worthy of a creature's love. Leander, entering with Faith in his arms : Come, darling ! tell your mother how you chased The sunbeams o'er the clover-tops, and how You stayed your hand when father said they were [these smiles God's smiles; then asked, "Does God send all For little Faith r ' I do believe the child Will be a prodigy ; she seems so bent On studying nature in her every mood. She trots along beside me when I go Unto the meadow, and calls every lamb By some pet name, and thinks it answers back Its recognition by a gentle look ; And when we pass the stream she stops to see 14 FAITH, "The clouds down in the water" ; when the wind Comes briskly by and lifts her bonnet off, She says "God's whisj)'ring something in her ear,'' And bids me wait 'till she can understand The heav'nly message — O ! my j^eerless one ! How can my heart e'er thank Him half enough For all the dei^ths of love and wisdom He Has taught me in thy coming ! I had thought That I was grown, and had attained somewhat Of man's maturity : but this sweet child Hath taught me all the littleness of mind Compared unto its heav'nly tenant, soul ; And how bright angels love to hover 'round The home where liapi)y children dwell. {Faith sleeps in her mother'' s arms-.) How dread The thought that ever grief should dare to fling Its pall Tipon her way ; that her glad heart, So tuned to nature and to nature's love. Should ever mourn in sorrow o'er a lot That spirits grosser than her own might make Earth-weary. She was born for love as liow'rs Are born for sunlight ; and for symjiathy As herbage for the dew-drops: she would pine Without them as a tree without its roots, And all her being show a quick decay. OR EARTHLY PARADISE, 15 But give her these, and our sweet child sliall be A marvel in her loveliness as palms Which on the i^lains of desert Eastern clime Rise grandly up above the burning sand To prove 'tis not a God-forsaken land. Sometimes I think that slie must never leave Her father's dwelling. Sure no other man Can ever love her as her father does : And I could tear the heart from out the form, ^Vnd trample it beneath my feet in scorn, That could essay one angry word or look Towards this dear child. The l^easts that roam the held Were far too good companions for the wretch Who'd thus disgrace the very name of brute, Which were synonymous with loftiest worth Compared to him. The flow'rs may fade away ; But when the winds of winter shriek around, I'll only clasp her closer to my breast To shield her from the storm : and when sweet spring. Her natal season, with her flowing train Sweeps softly o'er the blooming earth again, I'll send her forth to join the gladsome throng 16 FAITH, Of sister-fairies as they trij) along To gladden nature with their mystic song. Mary: Sometimes I fear she will not linger here Until maturity ; she seems so prone To think of things beyond her years, of things That well might baffle riper minds than ours. For I have seen old people shake their heads With solemn look, and say, "'Tis surest sign When children are so prematurely bright, They can not stay on earth, and only wait For welcome tidings from the better land To join the angels there." Yet when I think Of all the good a gifted one may do In tliis woe-stricken world, I can but pray Our darling's life may be like summer's day Of arctic clime, i^rotracted in its cheer ' Till night is almost banished from that sphere. Her waking hours are full of joy ; and when She sleeps 'tis but to dream of brighter things Than earth can e'er afford — 'Tis honor grand From all- wise heav'nly Father's gracious hand To be intrusted with a soul like this : And should we prove regardless of that trust, ' Twere better far we' d crumbled to the dust Before she came — Yea ! angels love to come OK EARTHLY PARADISE. 17 And tlit around the humblest earthly home Where sjiirit dwells to which such worth is giv'n, For it reminds them of their native Heav'n. Angels sing : Yes, we linger, love to linger ' Round your quiet, hax^py home, Ever since one from our number To your dwelling-place hath come. When she wanders in the meadow, Where the purling brooklet strays, We are ho v' ring 'round about her In her lovely, childish plays ; When she strives to catch the sunbeam With her little outstretched hand, We are gazing on her countenance By the passing zephyr fanned ; And when she essays to warble Back a sonnet to the bird, We opine it is the sweetest Music songster ever heard. She is learning now of nature What her tender heart must know. Ere 'tis all prepared and ready Strong in faith and love to grow : 18 FAITH While your care shall tend her body, We are wielding sweet control O'er the ev'ry thought and feeling Chasing through her sunny soul. Would you have us linger 'round her? Would you have us ever stay ? Then repress not aught of gladness Of her childhood' s happy May ; Let her love all things of beauty, Where the angels' feet have trod, They will lead her tender spirit Nearer unto us and God. Scene; IV. — Faith at Her Studies. Leander : Now, daughter! read: we've followed Virgil's verse 'Till both of us "reclining 'neath the shade Of spreading beech," or rural arbor near, Might well repose. Read in the Testament ; For fancy' s flight hath wearied me ; I long For something stabler now to rest upon. {She reads lUh chapter of St. JohrCs gospel.) Thy mother's favorite chapter ; full of love OR EARTHLY PARADISE. 19 Of Christ to his dicij)les. Now recess ' Till she instructs you in your Botany ; And when the lamp is lit, and tea is o'er, We will essay to study with St. John Again those knotty Greek roots, where he tells Of when, and where, and what the "Logos", is [Bxit Faith. L. alone: Oh ! how can parents yield to othei" hearts And minds alway the rearing of their young, And deem their duty done because, forsooth, They pay their children's school-bills; when the joy Of leading them and guiding them aright Amid the llo w' rs of Science might be theirs ? ' Twere sweet to hear a boy or girl recite With willing heart, and interested mind Those varied lessons. Yet, when that one is A child as well as pupil, how we love To note the pleasure beaming in their eyes At deeds of noble virtue ; or to see The look of pride that settles there when care And labor have enabled them to grasp Some grand idea latent in the verse. They first had j)ass'd unheed'd. How we learn To realize the greatness of those rules 20 FAITH, That not content to measnre all of earth, Must grasj) the heav'ns themselves in mighty sway, And trace out times and paths for all the stars ! Not satisfied with facts that figures give, The mind, by signs and letters, would essay New proi)erties to find in reck'nings old. And then when we would leave the real world, And dwell in the ideal, how it cheers Our wand' rings there for kindred heart and mind To bear us company ! How for awhile We scarce remember we are made of clay. As leaving earth behiud we soar away Into the regions of an endless day. Methinks my child will bear the impress deep Of all these hours upon her heart and mind So long as she may live : yea, I believe The turn I give her thoughts and feelings now May fix her destiny for hell or heav' n ; Not that I am a fatalist ; but how Can we expect the truth to vegetate. And yield its fruit within a heart that ne'er Has heard of its importance? Do we look " For figs on thistles " ; or do we expect The bloom of troi)ics on the desert sands ? Then why should parents leave to other hearts. OR EARTHLY PARADISE. 21 Not half SO dear as tliey, the noble task Of teaching chiklreit what tliey owe to God, And country, to their parents and themselves ? Once I beheld a ragged x:)auper boy Ask alms of one the world calls rich and good — But I consider him both poor and mean — Who spurned him from his ju'esence with a sneer. Oh ! T can ne'er forget the look of scorn That struggled for a moment in the eye Of that proud boy ; 'twas like the glare that lights Volcano's crater ere the burning tide Of lava sweeps in desolation wide Adja(^ent country. I would hate to call Forth such a look from any human soul. A lady — may God bless her loving heart — Then called the boy and bade him go with her : When next I saw him he was seated where A throng of children met to worshi]) God, In tasteful garb repeating the Lord's prayei". And now I learn his name is reckoned high Upon the lists of fame, and great men go To hear the swell of oratory's flow That glides in torrents from his gifted tongue ; And he who spurned him once is proud to call His name among acquaintances. This proves 22 FAITH How very wrong it is to jud^e of one By mere appearances ; and how that scores We deem inferiors, with the slightest chance Would rise beyond our reckoning ; how the worth Of gifted creatures may be crushed beneath Man's cruel meanness, or how it may shine Resplendent as the diamond by the aid Of but a few kind words and deeds, that grow In noble souls like seeds in mellow soil Quick yielding sweetest fruitage for one's toil, I knew a man whom none had ever deemed Had faintest spark of poetry's blest tire In his rough constitution ; and yet he Was often heard to say he sympathized With women, for they had no privilege To choose whom they should love, as men may do ; But must content themselves with one of those Who them select — or never love at all. Did Plato dream, did Socrates aspire To higher flight in great philosophy ? His good old Christian heart had caught the glow Of love that dwells beyond dark Jordan's flow, And longed that earth its radiance, too, should know. OR EARTHLY PARADISE, 23 I've seen a woman whom the world called proud, And cold, and heartless, stoop amid the throng That jostled by, to aid a drunken man Regain his footing ere the night came on, And he was left to die. I've seen her place A tract within his hand, in kindest tone Assure him if he'd read it he would find Sweet comfort there ; while other ladies sneered As they passed on. I've seen him read, and read That tract again till God was pleased to smile Upon that wayward sinner and recall Him back to home and duty : " Inasmuclt As ye have done it to the least of these ^ ' Twasdone to me," rings out so loud and clear ' Twould almost seem the deaf its sound might hear. I've seen a girl with more than common worth Wiio would not stoop to grovel in the mire Of worldly wisdom, as with heart sincere She strove to do her Maker's will on earth. I've heard the bitter taunt of sland'rous tongue In iiendish pleasure gloating o'er the woe That tongue had cost her as she struggled on, Now doubly lone in duty's trying path. I've seen her neighbors turn away their eyes To those scarce worthy to unlatch her shoes 24 FAITH, With knowing look, whene'er she dared ap- proach. I've seen her in an agony of soul, [room, When gaping world was shut from out her With streaming eyes fall on her knees to beg For further patience 'neath her mighty grief — For she was of my kindred. — Then I've seen A man the world was anxious to befriend. And shower down its compliments u]3on, Because of his possessions ; but whose worth Was just as far beyond his wealth as stars Above the stream that doubles them, essay To find the secret cause of this great wrong. I've seen him seek her side when others smiled, Pretending care for her that they might snare His heart with wily love-arts, till he found An answer to the problem : then he poured The garnered worth of all his manhood's prime, His golden treasures, and the priceless wealth Of his great heart an off' ring at her shrine. The world was much perplexed ; and mothei s looked Upon their daughters with a strange surprise That thus he should have chosen. But he said, "I've found the treasure I have long desired. And I am happy ; for she is not bought OR EARTHLY PARADISE. • 25 • With hopes of golden gewgaws to adorn Her looks ; her soul is mate to mine ; and we Would still be happy were my wealth to flee." And O ! the heav'nly peace that dVv^elt within Her heart, and shone upon her face, as years But proved to her his soul's exceeding worth — For sorrow but reflned, not hardened her — And all through life ' twas their delight to tind Some stricken one of womankind to cheer With their brave love and holy sympathy. I've often thought I'd have my darling child Like this sweet woman in her noble worth ; But O ! I shrink from thought that she should live To ever be so tried as Mabel was. And yet it seems that God designs for all, Who may a blessing prove unto the world. Some crucible of sorrow, some deep woe No human aid can reach ; but which His hand Can heal enough to make it but redound To His own glory, and to mortals' good. • Angels sing: Can you doubt it ? Can you doubt it ? That He's able still to guide All your darling daughter's footsteps Whatsoever may betide ? 26 FAITH, Can you dare to doubt His goodness ? Can you dare to doubt His truth ?— He who taught her infant prattle Still can shield her dawning youth He can cast her sunny pathway Where no harm can ever come, He can bring her 'mid all dangers Safely still to find her Home : He can lead her by " still waters" Where her heart can know but peace. He can guide her through the storm-waves, And yet bid her sorrows cease. Never doubt it ! Never doubt it ! All the love your Father gives, While you dwell in earthly day- house, Never while your spirit lives ; While the stars continue shining, While the ocean's billows roll. Never, while the world endureth Suffer doubts to dim your soul. OR EARTHLY PARADISE. 27 Scene V. — Family prayer. {Faith having recited her Greek lesson, the family kneel in prayer.) Leander prays: O Thou ! who didst ordain the family As guardian of our precious faith 'till time Should circling bring forth governments, look down In tender love and mercy on us here, As gathered ' round Thy footstool we would beg For grace divine to lead us on through life. Pour out Thy Spirit's plent'ous fullness on Each heart now in Thy presence : let us feel Each gifted with the very grace each needs To well fulfill its mission. May she be, The mother of the household, like the vine That planted by deep waters lifts its head With richest fruitage freighted for the hand Of harvest reaper ; while our darling child But grows in years and deeds like unto her. As years move on to bear us both away, The parent-stems that prop her graceful form, But leaving her more beautiful still in deeds That tell her Maker's praise. And O ! may he Whom Thou hast condescended thus to bless With honor of such household's head, e'er be 28 FAITH In all his words and actions true to Thee, And to Thy counsels. May he ever bear Along with him the thoughts of Thy intent, Thy matchless love and wisdom thus to give Such vast responsibility to him ; And like a faithful servant may he be Prepared and ready when the summons comes To give account of all his "stewardship." Look down upon this weary sin-struck earth As when with pitying heart Thou didst behold The tomb of Bethany, with loving eye, Then melted down to human weakness, wept'st. Yet cried' st with Grodlike voice : ''•Lazarus come forth!'' While weeping sisters, and the multitude In wond'ring silence could but bow unto The majesty of Thy Divinity. Thus speak to all earth's citizens, now "dead In trespasses and sins," until their hearts But thrilling 'neath the magic of Thy voice, Shall step forth joyously from living tombs To take their places ' mid the glorious throng Of earth's redeemed — while ages onward roll, Refitting earth for its primeval bloom. And Eden-glory. Bear Thy precious Word Wherever waters roll, or wind -tides sweep, OR EAKTHLY PARADISE. 29 Wherever tropic suns gild with bright blaze, Or frigid snows but lengthen out the days ; There send Thy chosen messengers with news Of Thy salvation : 'till all earth shall bound With thrill electric to the gladsome sound ; While to our Triune God each heart shall ])ring On that great day its lifetime offering. Scene VI. — Faith at College — Reginald' s Love. ( Professor Gregory approaching President Eoa- rard^ hands him a letter from Reginald to Faith.) Professor Gregory: I much regret, indeed ! to find that one Of our young ladies is a pupil now Of Reginald as well as of ourselves : • He's teaching her the mystic art of love ; In which I've heard it said he's quite expert. These verses, you'll observe, are breathing with A passion that may call forth answ'ring one In Faith's young heart. It might be welcome change From sines and co-sines, double aorists ; For love to one like her doth oft appear As gorgeous landscape flooded with soft light To artist's eye. A courier brought tliem here. And waits an answer by the evening's train. ■ 30 FAITH {To Faith.) President Evarard reads : I'm dreaming of thee! I am dreaming of thee ! Time never can banish thine image from me ; A star on life's ocean it sweetly arose To gild all my jileasiires, and lighten my woes. Dost think that my heart could e'er wish to forget When first in its gladness that image was met, When ere the bright visions of youth-time were past Within its fond tendrils that image was clasped ? No, never ! ' Mid breakers of sorrow and care, I look to that beacon, and can not despair ; And when love and friendship my j^athway en- twine, I turn from the picture to gaze upon thine. I'm dreaming of thee ! And the vision shall last So long as fond mem' ry illumines the past ; For all the bright wealth of the fathomless sea Could n't purchase the dream that I cherish of thee. OR EARTHLY PARADISE. 31 r m dreaming of thee ! O ! but answer my love, And all that is noble and gallant, I'll prove ; Thy name with my own I am longing to twine — My fortune, my heart, and my hopes are all thine. Yours devotedly, Reginald. President Eimrard, : I'll speak unto her father ; what he says Shall be my guide ; for I have never seen A man more tenderly devoted to A child than he to her. I'm sure he would Disdain that she should trespass on our rules ; And yet methinks if she should love this man, He's far too fond of her to cross that love : So we' 11 refer the matter unto him. {Leander enters.) Pres. Evarard rising to meet him, : Good morning. Sir ! I'm very glad you've come. We've just consulted on a subject here Which you can best decide ; what do you say To teachings such as this for your fair child ? {Leander reads the letter, then folds and, places it in his pocket.) Leander : She's far too young to think of such a thing As loving any one : beside she's not 32 FAITH, Completed yet her education. If You please, I' 11 take her home with me awhile ; An I when she comes again you may be sure No vestige of this love-song shall remain Within her heart ; though she shall know it all. She's far too good, and bright, and beautiful To lavish her heart's wealth on such as he ; For none but noblest of the human race Shall ever bear my peerless one from me. [Exetint all. Scene VII. — Home Agahi — Faith's Vozv. Leander : My daughter ! I am much surprised that you Should list that lordling's worthless love 'Tis true He comes of proudest ancestry, and looks On common people much as merest slaves To do his bidding ; and he's handsome too, And toFrably proficient in those arts We style polite accomplishments : and yet There lurks a something in his eye and mien That never could be trusted. I regard That eye as but the "window of the soul" ; For when the spirit' s paltry, low or mean That littleness is sure reflected seen OR EAllTHLY PARADISE, 33 In its possessor's glance, e'en when he tries . To stifle such expression. Then I've heard Him Sjjeak in such a disrespectful way Of "women, and their weaknesses," I'm sure He's never known what 'twas to dwell about The noblest of their sex, and could not learn To rightly estimate the worth of such, E'en were that one his own. He thinks it all Significant of manhood that he wears The pantaloons, and swaggers round the streets With curled mustache, and choicest cigarette, With bow polite to every passing belle. And sneer but ill-disguised at plainer maid That chances by. Why, such a being sure, As Nicodemus wand' ring said of old. Would needs be "born again" ; and then 'twould take A thousand years' tuition, more or less. To educate him up to manhood's worth. He might, perhaps, supply the "missing link," As Darwin says, between the ape and man ; And even then it would be hard I think To tell exactly where the link began. Some men who dare insult a thinking world, And Heav'n, assuming care of families. Remind one of the sea-bear, kind enough 34 FAITH, Unto their offspring, yet unfeeling towards The mother of that offspring — When, O ! when Shall earth attain such moral excellence That this, like other perjury, shall meet The scowl indignant of an outraged law Of all humanity, and skulk away Into congenial, native Tartarus ? We do not read that ever Christ essayed One bitter word to all of womankind ; And he who's noblest, truest, best to them Is nearest Christlike in his spirit's mould. And I'd prefer my child, if e'er she weds. Should link her fate to one of Adam's sons As noble as herself ; for I believe We owe a duty to x>osterity. In that our race should not degenerate, But grow resplendent, Godlike, as the years Go sweeping on towards earth' s habiliment In nobler grab. Faith : Now I can understand Why I e'er shrank from his advances when He would have seemed most courteous : for a spell, I knew not what seemed drawing me away From all his words whene'er he dared apjiroach. OR EARTHLY PARADISE. 35 Mary : ' Twas that blest sense of intuition, giv'n By nature to the best of womankind, To warn us of earth's dangers, and to save Our feet from snaring evils on life's way. It must have been when angels guarding stood To keep poor Eve from out fair Eden's bowers, That pitying her in all her deep distress, They gave her this pure sense as talisman Against earth's dangers; as requital, too. In part, for all the joys she there had lost. Yes, I remeinber him, young Reginald ! ' Twas he who brought the news of "Mabel's fate" Unto the City, as he sneering termed The fact that she'd been slandered ; and he said, "Tliat none could now be trusted since she'd fall'n." No ! no, my child ! Though he were now a king. And we were but his vassals, rather far Would I assist in placing you beneath Some friendly sod than know you were his wife, I love to see a true aristocrat. Who knows that in his veins there circling flows The blood of noble fathers, and who feels ' Tis but a debt he owes that ancestry 36 FAITH To render it still nobler in his own. Such beings well are fit to lead the throng Of common mould to higher aims in life Than otherwise they might attain ; and such Ne'er feel the vulgar need to boast their line In other people's ears ; for all men know That only noblest blood could bring such stock. Sometimes the merest accident may place A very common man upon the toj) Of Fortune's wheel — who then j^retends to be A native-born aristocrat. His mode Of proving this reminds us of attempt Of dressed-up monkey in a circus-ring To play the part of nation's president : As monkey, he were sure a prodigy— As president, a minus quantity. But when a man depends on proud descent, Without a corresponding lofty worth, To take him through a work-day world like this, ' T were like some one should build a splendid ship. And rig her out with everything she needs To make her beaut' ous to the eye, and yet, By some strange freak, should bid her walk the waves Without the motive pow'r. Would she not be The taunt of rudest sailor on the sea, OR EAKTHLY PARADISE. 37 And but the sport of every wind and wave ? But give her steam — the sense of innate worth— And see how proudly o'er the depths she bears, While every noble soul her triumph shares. I am a woman, and I know her needs : Her heart, and all her feelings, and her worth. I fear the man more than a reptile who Can lightly speak of woman's virtue, or Who gloats in secret o'er her tarnished name. The serpent only bites ; that bite may heal : But sland'rous tongue can make a festering wound That all the " balm of Gilead " scarce can 'suage. And he wdio loves to hear a slander, waits But opportunity to make one too, And woe unto the woman, then, who falls A victim in his path. To have her wed To such a being 's like to seeing one In blooming health tied to a putrid corpse. That terrifies and drives away all friends Who otherwise might come to cheer her way. Leander : Why should our darling ever leave her home ? ' Tis true, 'tis not magnificent nor grand. Nor noted for its splendor far and wide ; Yet precious one ! 'tis such a resting-place 38 FAITH As kings themselves might sometimes yearn to own, When wearied of a pompous, regal fate. They fain would find some sure and snug retreat From outside world with all its hollow show, Where none but hearts they know full well are true Could dare invade their sacred j)rivacy. You'd scarcely feel while here, I think, the want Of sisters' tenderness or brothers' love By lieav'n denied you ; for our waiting hearts Would answer every feeling of thine own With kindred one. I know no goodlier sight Than that of daughter, grown to years mature. Who nestles sweetly in the parent home Without desiring ever thence to roam. It may be selfish of me ; yet I shrink From thoughts of yielding thee, as soldier shrinks From losing his right arm when battle's nigh. When but a little boy I knew a girl, Or, rather, gentle woman, who thus stayed With aged father. Every one who saw Their true and fond alfection could but feel A thrill of love for both, so beautiful Was their devotion to each other. He Was one of nature's noblemen; his brow OR EARTHLY PARADISE. 39 So high and fair, was crowned with silver bloom ; While in the depths of liquid, si^eaking eyes, Benevolence and dignity were blent As sometimes light and shade in sunset's glow ; As two shii^s when far off on the sea. And sailing side by side, appear as one. His love for her had taught him love for all Of womankind. Her virtues, in his eyes, Were but the virtues of her sex, yet which Seemed dearer far l^ecause she was his child ; And when he spoke of ' ' Inez, ' ' sure no lute E'er breathed in minor key a sweeter note. Her mother died when she was young, and thus She grew to womanhood regarding him As all to her of earth. Her oval face Was set in semicircle of light brown. That waved about her forehead as the sea Caresses Southern shore ; and her soft eyes Looked lovingly on him as twinkling stars Look earthward on a cloudless summer's eve. Her beauty was reflected in his face. His dignity reflected back in hers ; And all the neighbors said a lovelier pair Could not be found upon earth anywhere. Mary: [here Yes, daughter! 'twould be sweet to have you 40 FAITH, Alway with us : and yet we could not bind Our joyous bird a pris'ner in her home, Should worthy songster come to woo her hence, And she should tind sweet refuge in his breast. The world would miss the music of her notes, Without her mate; and she would beat the bars Of binding fate till her own heart would break. 1 look ujion the marriage of our child As something in the future possible, Tliough far from probable : yet when I think Of all the joy my own fond heart hath known In loving, and in being loved by one So worthy of my spirit's choice, I dare Not say that she must never love. The thought Of her e'er wedding one unworthy, strikes As keenest dagger to my throbbing breast : And yet should one, the noblest of his kind, With soul and mental nature half divine. And heart all pulsing with his own deep love For God and country, and his spirit's choice, Like Joseph Fry^ who could a hero prove In every scene of life, yet grander far, Eclipse himself, as noon eclipses star. In dying heroism, e'er come to woo, Dost think I could refrain from blessing him As Sarah once blessed Isiuic ? I would look OR EARTHLY PARADISE. 41 With fondest pride upon our only son, And love him for his worth, and for the fact That he loved mine : Fd clasx) her trembling hand With warmth when giving her away, and feel That she was nobler having won his love, And dearer bearing such a hero's name. But let us not again converse of this ; The subject's fraught with sadness : years will come Before she e'er will wish to leave her home — Our only babe, O ! let us prize the hours While here she lingers 'mid parental bow'rs. {^Exeunt Leander and Mary. Faith alone : No ! I can never leave my parents who So tenderly devote their every thought And feeling to my welfare. All the wealth That kings may claim were but poor recompense For this my crown of glory : all the love That suitor e'er could give but merest drop Compared unto the broad, majestic tide Of pure affection welling from their hearts, As mountain-currents leap from snowy homes In sep'rate streams, yet mingle as they flow On towards the ocean of Eternity. To leave the roof presided o'er by one 42 FAITH, So noble in liis nature, and by one So conversant with woman's every thought, And hope and feeling, and her every need, Were like to one who in delirious dream Should flee his home, his kindred, and his friends. To wander forth an exile o'er the world : Or like some star deserting its own sphere And gravitating force should sweep away Into illimitable space, and And— Alas ! too late to e'er return again — That it was lost forever. I will give My heart unto the God my parents love. My mind to closest study as the years Pass swiftly on, until they both shall learn The happy girl they deem a birdling now Has grown to be a woman of such mould As they themselves may well delight to call Their daughter : one in whom their loving hearts Can e'er repose as sunbeams seek the flow'rs, And nestle there through all the springtime hours. O ! 'twill be sweet when they are growing old, And long to plume their wings for brigliter sphere, When earth shall bring no joy except my smile, And heav'n is softly wooing them the while. To aid their tott'ring footsteps as they stand Upon the borders of the "'better land," OR EARTHLY PARADISE. 43 And hear their accents as they How to me, Their best-belov'd, like music on the sea When to the harp some minstrel's touch is giv'n, And earth itself seems merging into heav'n. While thus engaged I sure might well dispense With joys of married love, and cheering sound Of children's prattle, as the years sweep on But wliisp' ring softly that my duty's done. Yes, I am young ! But something tells me now Earth was not made for Deity's pastime, Nor for an empty dream existence giv'n : Both were designed as training-schools for heav'n. Angels sing: Well we knew it ! Well we knew it ! When you were a little child. That the world could ne'er entangle You within its meshes wild. Oft we flashed our shining j)inions ' Round you when you gladly played. Oft we fanned you with those pinions As you slumbered in the shade. Oft we softly glided near you As you i)rattled in your glee, Oft we answered back your sonnets As a songster from the tree ; 44 FAITH, And when storms began to gather. And the sunlight all to fade, We would haste you till you smiling On your mother's breast was laid. Oft when you had nearly tumbled From the bank into the brook, We were there to bind your body With a potent magic look, Till you could regain your footing ; Then in tone we loved so well, We would hear you softly whisper To yourself, " I like to fell ! " O ! ' tis sweet to guard a treasure That the angels well may love ! O ! ' tis blest to guide a being That may earthly blessing prove ! Then while life is smiling ' round you, And its scenes are all so bright, Listen to the holy teachings That we bring from fields of light. OR EARTHLY PARADISE. 45 ACT II. Scene I. — Faith at College Agai7i. {The charge to the graduating class.) President Eoarard : Young ladies ! There will be a crowd to liear Your essays read this evening ; and I hope That each will feel herself much honored by The presence of an audience so vast, And so distinguished. Let your tones be clear,. And loud enough, that each within the hall May grasp the meaning of each uttered word ; For ' tis a poor return for int'rest shown In others' efforts when we fail to learn What they are saying. I've two bosom friends Who will be present that I wish to hear Each sentence read : one is a worldly man Who long has bowed at pleasure's shrine, and found It insufficient for his spirit's need ; who now Stands trembling on the verge of ruin, yet Who dreads to trust to better things, for fear They, too, may turn to ashes in his grasp, A word in season rightly understood. From heart and lips he can but know are pure, May rouse him to some nobler view of life ; 46 FAITH, For 'tis a mighty x)ow'r true women wield Upon the hearts and lives of thinking men. The other is a man whom any one Might well be X)roud to reckon as a friend. He's young and gifted, and his life so far Without the slightest blemish ; he has quaffed Deep draughts from foimt Pierian, and his soul Has basked in sunshine of his Maker's love : But in his mind a contest strong is waged Between a sense of sacred duty and The claim of other duties : one would bear Him far away to distant clime to preach The Gospel, while another weeping pleads In broken accents for his native land. He stands between them, undecided, while The harvest ripens for him on each hand. O ! could some fitly spoken word but lodge By accident within his heart to-night. How it might sprout and vegetate until His being grew resplendent in its bloom, And other hearts earth-weary learned to prize The subtle essence of its sweet perfume. ' Tis known full well that you would scorn to read The thoughts of others palmed off as your own. And all will list intently as we do OE EARTHLY PARADISE. 47 When spring's first songsters chirp from out the grove, Each warbling forth the notes it best may love. [Exeunt all. Scene II. — Commencement Exercises. {Faith reads the Valedictory — Baccalaureate Address. ) Faith reads : Respected Audience ! It may seem that when A scene like this presents itself to youth ' Twere all of gladness : yet to me it brings Reflections sad, just ready now to yield The ties of school-girl days, and enter in Another, wider sphere. And as I think Of this great change so fraught with weal or woe, My spirit asks : What is the Aim of Life f Is it to join the festive throng who glide Along on pleasure's current, thinking naught Beyond their own enjoyment? Or to live Shut out from earth, disdaining all its joys. As sages once in deep philosophy [quaff Dreamed dreams of men and nature? — Or to From richest founts of knowledge, till the mind 48 FAITIT, All surfeited with its own depths shall scorn To dwell with other mortals ? — Or to sweep Some wondrous harx) until the world entranced Stops short in all its reckonings to keep Sweet time to that grand music, and to clasp To its great heart the gifted minstrel bard ? Is it to climb the mountain-tops to see The glory of the Godhead shower' d down Upon those lofty heights, and then to sink Again to life of uselessness to earth ? Is it to glide upon life's summer-sea As some frail bark without a destined port, That loosing anchor proudly sails away. And ne'er is heard of more ? Is it to be Content like other minds to j)lod along Regardless of our lofty destiny, And die and be forgotten as the beasts ? — Or is it not to think, and pray, and strive With each untoward circumstance until The soul can grasp the secret link that binds Its nature unto God ; and then pursue The thread of that companionship until It finds itself again about His throne ? ' Twere vain to look for happiness in fame : ' Tis but the Father's gift to gild one's name With earthly greatness, and the heart will break OR EARTHLY PARADISE. 49 That dares to banish Duty for its sake. Created beings act through certain laws ; And he wiio would eschew his spirit's worth, And level down his nature to the brute, Will spend his life in pleasure. He who looks Upon that spirit as the grandest gift Within the pow'r of Deity to give, A gift 'twould bankrupt earth to once bestow, Will guide his actions by that spirit's laws, And in so doing find his earthly bliss. These laws are clearly traced in Holy Writ ; And yet, as if to make them doubly clear, They breathe in nature's teachings, as the air Upholds our being though we see it not. The influence of these laws is wooing us Forever on towards Duty when we'd stray, Just as the sun exerts his mighty pow'r Upon the earth when at aphelion point. Without that power 'twould bound away in space, A mighty wreck 'mongst universal worlds. Yea ! they who mock at spirit-intlu'nce would Have doul)ted its blest truth when on the head Of Christ Divine the Heav'nly Spirit clothed In form of dove descended, and a voice Said, " Thi^ is my beloved Son In lohovi 50 FAITH, / am well pleased; hear Hwi.'''' It breathes throiighont The universe in such a quiet way That infidels but measuring Deity By their own puny worth, disdain to see Its secret cause of often such effects As bid the angels cease their Glory-song, And look with wonder on. Redemption is The keystone of Creation^ s arch! They who Reject it, as their prototypes, the Jews, Shall be confounded in their wisdom, while The world sweeps on, each age but adding to "That house not made with hands," "His tem- ple in The skies," another glorious block hewed out In grand design before creation was. O ! what can fill that longing in man's soul For something better than this world affords, When measured out in all its richest worth. Save God and Heav'n? A child may play with toys, And be delighted ; but a full-grown man Perceives in time with all its fleeting joys A nothingness complete compared to hope Of life beyond. — How is this life attained? Ah ! this the question that has filled the mind OR EARTHLY PARADTRE. 5l With deepest thought since Abram laid his child, The child of promise, on the funeral pile. And purchased heav'n by his unearthly faith. This, this the query that oft roused the soul Of early Christians to such heroism They willing died brave martyrs at the stake : And this the thought that strengthen' d Luther's heart. When boldly battling for the Spirit's cause, He sought and won the world's enfranchisement. This, too, the question that in our own day Arouses students at the midniglit hour To ponder o'er its answer. — Can it be They e'er can doubt the meaning of that Word Which ringing down the ages cries aloud : " Go, preach the Gospel in its wondrous woi^th To every creature ' ' dwelling on the earth f I see him now, one of that chosen band, With heart all full of love to God and man. And soul the Spirit loves communings with, Embarking on his mission. Deep beneath That honored vessel sleep the boist'rous waves. And high above her pathway in the skies The God of nature hangs his beacon-lights. The winds play softly 'round her as she sails Away from all he claims of earth and home. 52 FAITH, And God and Heav'n are wliisp'ring in the gales Of distant land where he may chance to roam. A pow'r the worldling ne'er may dare to claim Ui)holds liim as he bravely bids adieu To earthly pleasures, and bright angels guide That steamer's pathway ocean's billows through. I see him stand in burning Eastern clime With head uncovered as the heathen throng To hear those thrilling tones of God's own grace, And listen to his glorious gospel-song. I see him sink in death in that far land : And yet it is not death — for lo ! there stand Bright hosts of angels with their shining wings. Who list intently as he sweetly sings Of his Redeemer's love — Then circle 'round His precious spirit, now from earth unbound, And gladly bear it homeward to the sky While earth is filled with Heaven's own min- strelsy. {To her Teachers and School-mates.) Respected Teachers and lov'd School-mates ! how The heart grows sad in bidding you adieu ! For years we've wander' d on together through The fields of thought, and liow'rs of fancy too, Until our souls have grown akin. We've roved Together 'mid bright scenes that heroes loved OR EARTHLY PARADISE. 53 In ages past, and climbed the sacred mount, Olympus, where the deities once dwelt ; Togetlier learned the ruin and decay [stars, Of all their greatness. We hav(3 watched tlie And measured pathways for them in the sky : We've tested use of algebraic signs. Of angle, circle, and hypothenuse. Of sines, and co-sines, and of logaritlims. Until our minds grew weary of the play Of endless figures and we sought repose In flowing numbers of the Mantuan bard. We've delved beneath earth's surface there to lind The fossils of anterior ages ; then Traced out the meaning of the rainbow's hues. We've talked in floral language as we strayed In blooming meads ; then strove to find the laws Controlling our own minds and reason's pow'rs. We've gathered knowledge from the varied rules That govern composition, till we found That genius might itself be almost lost Beneath its careful dressing ; then we've learned How flesh and bone compose these human frames So fitly joined together : then essayed To understand the mighty weight of proof Attending test of Christianity, 54 FAITH, When enemies would dare assail its truth. But, more than all of these, we have been taught The mighty meaning of its doctrines' power When God's own Spirit breathes into the soul ; Have learned to gaze abroad upon His earth, And find it but expression of His Love ; And in the pages of His wondrous Book For peace, and joy, and guidance e'er to look. When shall we meet again f—0 ! shall it be While earth and earthly scenes are smiling ' round; Or shall we meet beside the "crystal sea," When each a heav'nly home has gladly found % Shall life a failure prove to us who now Are gather'd in this sacred parting-place, Shall sorrow's furrows gather on each brow, And shadows creep o'er each young loving face I Or shall we live for each to worthy prove Of God's, of parents', and preceptors love, Until we meet again, no more to tell That sad, that solemn word — farewell — farewell ! President Eoarard^ handing Diplomas : Take these, the emblems of proficiency In studies you've delighted to pursue : They'll be to you as starlight to the sea. Which cheers the sailor through night's dark- some hours ; OE EARTHLY PARADISE. 55 While chart of Holy Writ shall be your guide To yon fair port where bloom eternal flow'rs. {To the Audience.) It is no easy task to train the minds Of girls to highest duty : for the world Hath thrown such sophistry around the rules That reason dictates for the other sex, When we'd apply the same in teaching them, That few without much extra care and 23ains Can realize the grandeur of their sphere. Sometimes we hnd one who from earliest years Has had some lofty intuition giv'n, Or has been taught so young the precious truth ' Tis easy for her thus to realize How holy is her mission. Such as these Grasp knowledge with a keen and eager zest As starving beggars catch at bits of bread ; And teaching them is like to pointing out From mountain-tops the valleys sjDread below, In all their bloom and beauty, to the eye Of artist-soul, that gathers in each glance Some glimpse of glory others may not see, And lays it by within his storehouse, mind, That it may be wrought out some future day In gem of art that shall applauded be : Or like to breathing music of fond love 56 FAITH, Into a poet's heart, that echoes back Each thrilling tone of earthly melody In wondrous lay of sweetest minstrelsy, Till each who hears shall bless him in his heart, Whose heav'n-born song can bliss divine impart. 'Tis noble mission woman's coming hath In this sad world ! When earth was new and bright. And never had been tainted by a sin, When Heav'n itself was but reflected there. And joys of Paradise in Eden dwelt. One thing was wanting : ' twas comyanionship Of marC s soul-nature lolth a kindred one ; And Deity, with fuller knowledge of His every need than he can e'er attain, While here, then brought a being fair, and gave. Whose name he afterward was taught to know Was "Life," while his was onlv "Eaktii man " Still. Her crown of glory in the fall was this : God knew her nature far too well to charge The germ of disobedience at her door ; While punishing her weakness, yet he gives. In promise of her Motherhood^ the right To claim she is allied to Godhood still ; [head ! " Because '•''her Seed shall hruise the SerpenVs OR EARTHLY PA.RADISE. 57 Her agony througli ages far adown The stream of time shall bring the Promised One, Whose presence here shall make the Devil quake, And whose grand death shall bid the angels wake The sweetest sound that heav'n has ever heard Prom all Eternity — Redemption^ s word ! She sniffers that the world may be alive ; Christ suffered that our deathless souls may live; And is it not full honor from His hand, She bears an humble part in scheme so grand, For all her sufferings ? To deem her less Because of trials of her sex, were like To try to rob the Godhead of His crown Of glory won in our Salvation, when He suffered in Redemi)tion — He is God, Not only God, hut loving Saviour too ! And God the Father loves to share with Him The glory of His kingdom. Thus should man Esteem the helpmate of existence here : And O ! what beauteous harmony would come From such esteem throughout this mundane home ; ' Twould almost spring again to former place, For Eden's joys themselves the world would grace. We need not fear such privilege to give ; Their Motherhood would be exalted ; and 58 FAITH True women never yet have been "unsexed "; ' Tis thing impossible, just as it is Impossible that men should bring forth young. Engaged in noble work, they must remain True women still, 'mid every scene of life. Was Florence Nightingale "unsexed" because On tented field she suif 'ring soldiers cheered 'i Go, ask those who recover'd, if they e'er Saw trait the least unwomanly in her ; Or if the dying spurn' d the gen'rous hand That soothed their anguish in a foreign land ? Go, ask the missionary if he scorns The aid of woman in his trying field — And earth hath none severer — he'll rei^ly She is a helpmate lent him from the sky, A being whom the angels can but love. Whose sacrifices grandest valor j)rove. Beside whose courage martial honor shrinks, As vapor when the sun its substance drinks. Esteem her as an equal ; let her hand Take joyous part in all that's nobly planned. She'll share all sorrows, brave all dangers, too, To aid the one who to her thus is true. She'll not content herself with worldly show : Into our Maker's "vineyard" she will go, A glad companion with her chosen one, OR 'EARTHLY PARADISE. 59 And willing labor till his work is done. She'll cross the waves when duty bids him go, She'll teach God's truth 'mid desert and 'mid snow ; She'll help to cheer each bleeding, broken heart, To weary ones new strength and joy impart. Not waiting, halting, turning from the way. Until to earth she yields her debt of clay; — Then to the Harvest-Reaper she'll ascend With Heav'n's own throng her glorious sheaves to blend. [Exeunt all. Scene III. — Faith at Home. — {Theodore's Love for Her.) Theodore : I did not deem such talent could be found, Miss Faith ! in all adjacent country 'round, xls graduating class displayed the day Of your Commencement. The Professors, sure, Must be a band of very gifteTl men. To show such fruits of earnest industry In guiding minds. I, too, was quite surprised At eulogy our Missions called from you : Young ladies do not usually regard This matter in the light you seem to see ; And yet 'tis strange when women are so quick 60 FAITH To be enlisted in a worthy cause So few e'er think of Missions. Some, I've heard, Even assert they think it "dreadful hard" That trav'ling preachers, in our own bright land, Should be so fortunate as e'er to lind A helpmate in tlieir arduous held of life ; And doom them all, on only this account. To lone celibacy. 1 hope that you Are more compassionate in all your views Of our profession ? Faith : Yes, I've been surprised. Myself, quite frequently, to hear remarks Like that from school-mates ; and I feared, perhaps, That some might thus attempt to sneer at me, Because of what I said : perchance the words The President then uttered silenced them. I do not think that ladies, as a rule. Think lightly of the Mission-cause ; but girls Make such remarks because they've never thought The subject over much. I think myself There never was a nobler band of men Than our Itin'rancy ; and surely none That ever has, or could, do more to aid OR EARTHLY PARADISE. 61 In spreading Gospel-truth. It seems to me They carry out more fully His command : ''''Go ye to all the world and preach My Word^^'' Than 'twould be possible, were they to work By any other system ; and can't see [more Why they should be debarred from marriage Than other men : It rather seems that love Of God and men, such as their lives evince, Would tend to waken admiration for, Instead of scoffing at them. Theodore: I am glad To hear you thus corroborate the views [think Expressed that day. I feared that you might It well enough for men, with their great strength, To go forth in the world to work for God ; But might not, as your President, approve Of woman's leaving home and friends to go With them in all their wanderings. He is As noble man as I have ever known. And such a friend to me I scarce can tell : He has been urging me for several years To go to China — and I want to go — But scarcely knew what was my duty, till I heard your essay and the foil' wing speech. He's told me, since, he wanted me to know 62 FAITH He meant each word for me, and others, too, And hoped the last lone doubt was now removed. Faith : He is a very noble man ; one who Has thought profoundly, and whose ev'ry thought Seems e'er in unison with God's great laws ; But very quiet. I had never dreamed Until that day he so approved my views, Although, of course, he knew them weeks before, I'd think you could but give much weight to what He would suggest : the subject's far too deep, And full of consequences grand, for one So young as I to dare advise upon. Theodore, talcing a seat heside her : But you are deeply interested, Faith ; More deeply than you thought that sunny day When with sweet words you threw such halo 'round The Mission-cause : and I'd prefer to hear What you may say about it now to all That Doctor Ev'rard could for years to come. I j)rize his friendship ; but 'tis sometliing more That brings me gladly to your side to-day. I've known you long ; much longer than you thought When meeting me upon the crowded street. OR EARTHLY PARADISE. 63 You'd think, perhai)s, if thinking aught at all, As bowing pleasantly you glided on, About the quiet gentleman you'd met : " There goes a Minister with white cravat. And lengthen' d face who never had a thought Of college-girl like me." And yet, just then Within my heart I'd feel a quicken' d throb. And on my cheek a lightly-burning flush Would tingle as I saw you turn the street. You have good friends in all your teachers : I Have never heard but praise from them of you ; And when I listen' d to that essfty read, And heard the speech that follow' d, I resolved To win your love if such were possible : If not, to go forth on my sadden' d way, And struggle still in duty's arduous path. Perhaps you'll think it selfish, cowardly. For one to shrink from going forth alone. But 'tis not this : I would not woo a love To shield myself from danger or distress : I've ever held the views he well express' d On that bright day I knew my heart was youi s ; And would not have a love of mine e'er feel She was less dear than part of my own soul. I hold that men who reckon woman's worth Inferior to their own to-be but ill 64 FAITH, Prepared for true companionsliip with tliem : They've surely been unfortunate in life In not possessing female relatives Of noblest worth ; and measure all by tliem. And yet it seems a man could scarcely come To years mature without discerning that The worth of woman must be as Jiis own ; And that in placing her on lowly i3lane He lowers self. ' Tis for companionship Of lofty, noble nature that I woo. A love like this combines in kindred souls That friendship ahcients said was seldom found But once in life, if even that one time, With fondness such as poets heart dotli sing. I've never loved before ; for ever since I was a youth I've realized that life Was but a state of trial for the soul To fit it for the future ; and believed That marriage is the most important step Of all, save that which links the life to God, Between the two extremes of birth and death : And I have careful been to keep my heart From out temptation of the sunny world Of love, as men do sometimes reck of love. I knew whene'er I loved ' twuuld be for life, And feared I might some life-long error inake OR EARTHLY PARADISE. 65 In choosing one to whom to give my heart ; And then I knew ' twould break : for such a love As mine unworthily bestow' d is like The pearl that Cleopatra placed in drink Of vinegar ; 'twould be dissolved, no more To take its place ' mongst fairest pearls again, And leave me naught save brimming acid cuj) ; Unless my God should work a miracle In my behalf, and bid me love again. But now I know I'm not mistaken Faith ! And pledge you what I ne'er shall pledge again To any other woman's ears : a love As pure as purest love can ever be ; As strong as deep gulf-current in the sea, That keeps its way despite the waves and storm Obedient to its heav'n-appointed law ; As fair as early spring in all its bloom When new existences leap from the tomb Of winter's rule. I know that other men Will woo ; some of them high exalted too, Within their country's annals ; for they sure Can find no place in this great government But would be honored by your woman's worth. Yet what were love of e'en a President, Unless his nature were exalted too ? ' Twould only be a living death to you 66 FAITH, To see the pageantries of honor ' round Without its subtle essence in your soul. You'd feel exalted in your husband's worth, You would be humbled were he not a man The peer of nature's noblest ; and your life Would pine beneath it like a beauteous tree That withers from some secret, deadly blight. The world regards mine as an humble sphere — But O ! can that be low that angels bless ? Can earth a higher path e'er show to man Than that which God Himself once deign'd to press ? With thee to share, O ! it would seem to me Almost as bright as heav'n itself to be — Canst thou not answer to my pleading heart, All radiant and lovely as thou art ? It waits an answer as the Howers a breath Of spring to wake them from their wintry death. Faith : I can but deem it honor grand to be The chosen one of such a heart as thine, I had not lived unblest if 'round my way No other love its wreaths should ever twine. The pride of worldly circumstance and place Finds no responsive echo in my breast ; I deem my mission higher than to yield OK EARTHLY PARADISE. 67 to such poor trilling toys my woman's worth ; And were I free as many a maiden is I could but answer you as you desire : In all my life I ne'er expect to find A nobler soul, a more exalted mind ; Nor is it possible for man to try By loftier path to win yon lieav'n so high. Theodoi^e : And is your heart another's ? O ! forgive The love I had not told you knowing this ; And yet, if pledged to me, I'd weeping yield You to another love, if you preferred. Faith : I am not pledged to any one : I'm free Of other loves ; but I have long resolved Within my parents' home to ever be [vow ; While they shall live. They know not of this Nor shall they ever. Were it not for this I could but give thee back an answ'ring love ; For I can rightly estimate the soul That yields up other joys at duty's call, And goes forth toiling for that duty's sake. And were I not my parents' only child, Had I a sister, or a brother who Another daughter for them still might woo. That holy vow had ne'er been made ; and now 68 FAITH, I might have found sweet joy in loving thee. Thou canst not censure ? ' Tis the same decree Tliat bids thee go, that bids me stay from thee : And this should be a link to bind our souls In lasting friendship ; for I would not lose The blest regard of one my heart would choose. But would retain him as my dearest friend, Who still through life may sweetest comfort lend. O ! thou canst scarcely know how woman's heart. All brave, and girded with such strength thou art. Must bleed beneath a trial like to this. {87ie weeps. ) Tlteodore, deeply moned : My darling ! ' Tis one little drop of bliss [free ; To know that thou couldst love me wert thou To know that thou couldst willing yield to me. But for stern duty, such as only we Can realize, the right to gladly fold Tliee to my loving heart, and fondly hold, The right to soothe thee with love's sweet caress Would like an angel's cheer my spirit bless ; To press those lips and know the heav'nly thrill Of these sweet words : I love^ Hove tliee still! ' Twere bliss divine — but O ! they are not mine, And are as sacred as the vestal flame That burned on ancient altars ! I would bind OR EAKTHLY PARADISE. 69 Your forehead with one life-remember' d clasp, But I forbear to soothe this yearning heart With such expression of its deathless love. Manhood shall conquer self ! And you shall be As pure from touch of mine as folded bud That scarce has caught a breath of softest breeze That's wooing it ; yet dear as that same bud To breeze and sunshine e'er caressing it. Think not that I can ever wish to cease To love when loving still brings sweetest peace : ' Tis bliss divine to find a precious love So worthy of my homage ; and to know Where'er I am, how long so e'er I live, There can be none more worthy e' er to give One thought from love's deep fullness ; it shall flow Towards thee for aye as lone years come and go. Yes, darling ! friendship such as ours shall live In some few souls as long as time shall last ; And such a love as mine is, yours had been, Can rob this dreary world of half its woes. You can not know how dear you are to me Till we shall meet in vast Eternity : Earth has no language love like mine to tell. Nor mathematics numbers to compute The sum of all my fondness. There's no sound 70 FAITH, Throughout this universe whose melody Could wake such music in my inmost soul As this sweet love now giveth me ; altliougli ' Twere sweeter far if thou couldst only go. In heav'n, perhaps, the angels realize Such bliss as this for aye — but never yet In all my life before I rightly prized The precionsness of a true woman's love ! No wonder Doctor Evarard could tell In glowing language what he knew so well ; For he is sweetly mated to the love That true to him from childhood e'er did prove. I ask no brighter crown that earth can give. Than that I worthy of this love shall live ; ' Twere sweeter far to die in distant land. With no fond kindred near my grave to stand. And know in death I still was dear to thee Than any lot without that love could be. ' Twill cheer me ' mid my every hour of toil ; And when I lay me down at night to rest Blest mem'ries of this hour shall throng my breast Until my faithful heart shall quickly beat As though I still were in thy presence sweet. My arms shall wander in my lonely dreams Enfolding thee within them as it seems, OR EARTHLY PARAUIHE. 71 i\.nd I shall wake at sound of my low tone Caressing thee not knowing thou art gone : And when I wake to ask my God to bless Me in my labors and my loneliness, I'll beg, ! fondly beg that He will cheer My precious one in all her duties here. Ofie boon I ask : ' tis that thou, too, wilt pray My Maker's blessings on my path alway ; Where "two or three" petition thus of Heav'n, The promise is a blessing shall be giv'n. Faith : I will ! When morning breaks forth in the East, And all the earth grows radiant in its light, Ere business comes to break the spirit's rest, And nature seems so lovely and so bright ; My prayers shall cross the deep, deej), swelling sea In sweet petition then to comfort thee. When night shall cling around me, and the stars Are softly twinkling from their homes above, I'll gaze on them — then fall uj^on my knees To beg His blessings on my faithful love : And when I hear of high and holy deed In other ones my heart again shall bleed, Then find its solace in another prayer That speeds across the waves and nestles there. 72 FAITH, Theodore^ liandlng her a riwj with Duty inscribed therein : Wilt wear this ring, my darling ? It was giv'n By one whose spirit long hath dwelt in heav'n ; My mother's gift to me when but a boy. To turn my thoughts to high and holy aini : Since it has shed blest rad'ance on my way, Perliax>s for thee ' twill do the same. It bears Within the emblem of our lives ; which yet Some ray of glory on those lives may set, Remember "Duty" still some joys can twine About our paths : and that I'm ever thine. 'Tis sad as death to leave thee ; yet it hath Sweet promise of a resurrection -morn — I do not ask thee pledge thou' It wait for me Thrcnigh weary years, though I can love but thee ; I would not be so selfish thus to bind The soul so true, the heart so nobly kind ; And should another woo whom thou canst love, My blessing's thine with blessings from above. But when I'm gone, upon that ring oft gaze To bring thee back the mem' ry of these days ; And should I die afar — O ! let it be Bright token of my life-long love for thee. It soothes my anguish, knowing thou wilt wear This pledge of our devotion, fond and fair. OK EARTHLY PARADISE. 73 Which dearer is to me because I lind A nobler soul, a more exalted mind Than I had deemed a mortal e'er possessed : Secure in this my lonely life is blest. O darling ! thou canst surely ne'er forget The glory on my i)ath thy love hath set ? Thou canst not live and learn to love him less Who ev'ry moment shall thine image bless, As dwelling with me far beyond the sea That image shall my constant solace be ? My manhood's garnered love I give to thee, Nor would from love's sweet bondage e'er be free ; Remember, I'll ne'er breathe to other ears The love baptized with thine own i)recious tears ; Remem})er, my whole heart to thee is giv'n, While " Duty" bids me seek to enter heav'n — O ! ' tis so hard to go, and leave thee here ; And yet, I know 'tis right — ye angels cheer My breaking heart while leaving her so dear ! Its agony no human aid can stay — O ! love me darling ! while I'm gone alway. - [^Exit Theodore. Faith alone, weeping: Had any one e'er told me such a love As his could find a dwelling-place in heart 74 FAITH, Of mortal man, I had not deemed it true ! I thought my father' s was the noblest soul That ever dwelt in manhood's noblest form ; But he's exceeded in this hero's worth : And could I e'er forget that heroism Enough to wed another, I would be But worthy of contempt of my own soul. Though billows bore him from me far away. So far that he had night while we have day; Though cross those stormy waves no news slioidd come To tell of his return again to home ; Though I should live neglected, and should die Alone on earth ; my soul would gladly ily To heav'n above, and bless him from the sky. {Leaiider and Mary enter. ^ Mary: Art weeping, daughter ? What could Theodore Have said to bring such sadness to thy heart. % Faith : I have been thinking. Mother, how sometimes A noble Christian man may rise above The dross of human nature till he seems Almost a being from some other sphere. {Showing her the ring.) He leaves for China ; and he gave me this OR EARTHLY PARADISE. 75 To wear in token of his high resolve To labor in that distant " vineyard " till The voice of "Duty" calls him thence away ; And of regard for me, your only child. Leander : Regard from such a man is worth the flame Of thousand Reginalds placed side by side ; And one might j)rize more than a royal crown To see his daughter such a liero's bride. Mary : Yea ! love like his is like the mountain-snow That ne'er hath known the taint of earthly tread, It grows resplendent 'neath love's sunny glow. Yet high above earth's clouds still rear its head : Or like the love that loving Saviour bore Towards Mary of sweet Bethany of old, Such love as bloomed in Paradise of yore, And in earth's noblest souls can ne'er grow cold. [Exeunt all. Anr/ds sing : Were all earth to gather treasures For long ages yet to come. Were it then to build those treasures In one proud and lofty dome ; All the splendors of that dwelling. As it rose in grandeur there, 76 FAITH, Could not bring one -half the glory As the love true lovers share. Not through weaknesses of mortals, Not for stores of mental worth, Do they love whom they have chosen From the noblest of the earth ; But for lofty spirit-stature In the one each spirit loves ; And that love can bless their pathways, Wheresoever either roves. Shine O ! sunbeams brightly 'round him, O ! ye winds most softly blow, Where a holy duty calls him, And where he so soon must go ! Father send Thy precious Spirit, "Comforter " to each young heart. Till they both shall reach yon heav'n, Never there again to part. Scene IV. — Theodore Visits the Prisoner' Theodore : I'm here now Humphrey for a last adieu ; The vessel sails to-morrow, and I'd give You some sweet comfort ere I go, to come. Perhaps, no more. Remember all I've said OR EARTHLY PARADISE. 77 About tlie willingness of God to save Poor sinners to the uttermost ; and how The Saviour loves to come within a heart That erst had known but wickedness, and take Up His abode in it to stay for aye, If thou could' st only grasp this precious truth, And feel 'twas thine, this all could only be At worst a gate-way to yon heav' n above : And should you happily be cleared to go Forth in the world again, 'twere worth the price Of longest prison-life to find this boon ; And you might still a mighty blessing prove To tliis sad world in winning men from ways Of crime and woe. And don't forget to read Your Bible oft, and oft to pray to God To soften your poor heart until it can Receive His precious truth in all its worth : I'd love when time is past, and lieav'n is won, To count you 'mongst my "jewels" 'round the throne. Humphrey : O sir ! I thank you from my inmost soul For all your kindness ! and that you could think Of lonely prisoner in an hour like this. I'll strive to do as you direct : I'll strive To root this demon, hate, from out my heart 78 FAITH Towards him who wronged me deeply ; whom I Sometimes I read, and think if only then [killed. I could forgive him that I could believe The Saviour, too, would freely pardon me. ' Tis death to know a sister' s hopes were wreck' d ; And that my life is blasted by him — hell In my own heart — Oh, that I could forgive ! — And that this hell were banished from my soul. Theodore : You must forgive ! There is no other way That God himself can lead you unto heav'n. Just think of Jesus' life ; His Godhood's worth ; And then remember how this wicked world Through envy of that worth deliver'd Him To death upon the ignominious cross ; And sure you must believe — you can forgive ! I think if you could only realize This precious hist'ry of His life is true, As you believe that other books are true, Your spirit could but melt beneath that Truth, And grasp the fullness of a Saviour's love As reaching you : read often and reflect ; And pray for grace to realize this truth. Humphrey : I will ! I will ! Your visits, with sweet work That r ve been doing in this prison-cell, OR EAETIILY PARADISE. 79 Have been my only solace. Frequently I've almost felt that I could take my life, Could dare e'en God, all heav'n, and all hell : But mem'ries then of your soft, pleading tone, And weeping eyes when preaching to us here Would come within my heart, and I'd relent. Your portrait is completed ; 'tis as true As artist's eye could wish : 'tis all I'll have To cheer my wretchedness when thou art gone, Yet I most freely give it unto thee. As some return for all thy kindness shown ; No doubt some friend or relative will wish To keep it in remembrance of thy face. Thy much-lov'd face till thou shalt come again. Theodore : No, Humphrey ! keep it : there is one I'd love To have it; but I can't consent to take The only sunbeam from your cell, since you Have just revealed you prize it all so well. You know the lovely girl I told you of. Whose noble words so nerved my heart for this \ I've seen her since ; and gladly found her all I thought she was — a woman true as steel To what she deems her duty. When I'm gone, Shouldst hear that I am dead ; or should you find You'll die, or happily be freed again ; 80 • FAITH, Be sure to send the portrait to her home, With word it was my parting gift to her — And now farewell ! And may we meet again Where there's no prison, no distress, nor pain. Humrplire , weeping: Farewell ! farewell ! My heart is breaking now ; But take, O ! take my spirit's grateful vow : Should I be lost, should I be doomed to hell — O ! noble man ! thou 'st done thy duty well. Scene V. — Theodore Leaves America. — ((9« deck o/ steavier off the coast, at night. ^ Theodore alone., repeating Scripture passages : Let your heart not troubled be : Ye believe in God, then see That ye too believe in me. In my Father's house there are Many mansions : and I go To prepare a place for you. And if I prepare a place I will come again to you, And receive you to myself ; That where I'm ye may be too. Til not leave you comfortless : I will come again to you. OR EARTHLY PARADISE. 81 As the Fatlier hath loved me, Even so have I loved you : Still continue in my love. Oreater love hath none than this, TJiat a man can willing lay Down his life for life of friends. Ye are my friends, if ye do Whatsoever I command. Ye are friends ; because all things Of my Fatlier I have heard I have made known unto you. Whatsoever ye shall ask Heav'nly Father in my name, He will surely give it you. Pray I not for these alone. But for all who shall believe On me also through their word ; That they all may be as one ; As thou Father, art in me. And as I also in Thee, They may be as one in us : So the world can hut believe That Thou surely hast sent me. 82 FAITH {He kneels and prays.) Our Father who in heaven art, O ! hallow' d be Thy name ; Thy kingdom come ; Thy will be done On earth as ' tis in heav'n ; Give us this day our daily bread ; And O ! forgive our debts, As debtors we forgive ; into Temptation lead us not, From evil O ! deliver us ; For Thine's the kingdom, Lord, And Thine the pow'r, and glory too, Forever, Lord. Amen. {He rises, looks out earnestly upon the ocean, and sings.) The waves are bearing me away From all of earthly home. And o'er my aching heart-strings now The sweetest mem'ries come ; While far across the ocean's swell I glimpse a distant light, It shines from shore I love so well — Mj^ Native Land, Good-night ! OR EARTHLY PARADISE. 83 Yet I could gladly leave that land For "Duty's" stern decree, Did but tlie waves too bear thee on, My peerless one, with me ; For high resolve my toils can cheer, And strength of manhood's might ; But 'twould be sweet to have thee here — My precious one, Good-night ! I will not say farewell to thee, ' Tis far too sad a sound To breathe for darling one to whom My heart's so sweetly bound : But as the vessel glides away To foreign landscape bright. My si)irit wafts its parting- lay — My precious one, Good-night ! I would not feel that thou art lost Forever from my grasp. That I shall never fold thy form In proudly loving clasp ; As mother to her babe that's gone In slumbers from her sight. Who'll greet her at the earliest dawn — My precious one, Good-night ! 84 FAITH, Slowly and with feeling. Music by A. L. K. H^ -I— -1 -^-§— 1. The waves are hear - ing me a - wa>- From 2. Yet I could glad - ly leave that land. For ~^— i-2z54z^: ±:2i4i:==d -#- -I — :t:=zz-5izzi:? -J? — i "3==1 -^-1 — ^— :^r,^ i"-B=F: :T -(&- r=*=^= all of earth du - ty's stern :4= &^it: ^2: "§=&•= r*- ly home. And o'er my aching de • cree Did but the waves too lPP^ N N N --X jfi ••%•;: -0-0- "*~*" •-•-^-^-i'-i'- -^-S-t-- -5?— S— S— ^- d?=5=i: :± :te heart strings now The sweet - est mem o - ries bear thee on, My peer - less one. with OR EARTHLY PARADISE. 85 tJ :t: =F- ?E3H V — ^u / — ^"^ -i # "^ c come; While far a - cross the o-ceau's swell I me; For high re - solve my toil can cheer, Aud lErf=i=il :± -T- zn: — I- -*•- T-S- il=^=:4=q ;i: glimpse a dis - taut light; It shiues from shore I strength of mau-hood's might — But 'twould be sweet to :S"^-^5: Z^«" -tg: -4- -U^- ^ N s s -J — I — p— )— »- -#_#_ -i»_i«_ 1/ U' 1/ 1/ |-5i5:t: :i3^| » — I ^i3~^" T^ 4^ -5? — 5^ — i? — ^- L2: love so well — My na - tive land, good night! goodnight! liave thee here, My pre - cious one.good night! good night! =4=' ^ N \ N I — h»_- — • — I — I — I — -0—0- -0-0-O-0- g? ==:-:.— :i -S- -^- -T S- -t<5'- $ :l: V2_! -/S^-i- -<2-^ s 86 FAITH, I go unto the tropic shore Of " Flow'ry Kingdom " far, While "Duty" cheers the darksome way, My only guiding-star : Yet, O ! couldst thou, with all thy worth, But add thy sjiirit's light, How bright were still the scenes of earth — My precious one, Goodnight ! O! 'twill be sweet in distant land To tell of Jesus' love, While listening heathen hungering stand For manna from above : But while that Saviour's love can iill My soul with blessings bright, My heart can be but human still — My precious one, Good- night ! The morning' s sun shall gild the waves. But, O ! when I awake, No gleam of home with all its joys, Shall on my vision break : Not so, my darling's image dear. Shall fade when morn is bright, I'll clasp it still forever here — My ijrecious one, Good-night ! OR EARTHLY PARADISE. 87 Should I no more thy presence greet, Should Heav'n this boon deny, Should I a lonely resting-place Find 'neath a foreign sky — O ! 'twill be sweet to know in death We'll meet in fields of light, And bless thee with my latest breath — My precious one. Good-night ! Scene VI. — Reviewing the Bishop' s Sermon. Leander : How did you like the sermon that we heard On yesterday? I thought the text sublime, The whole discourse in keeping with the text : " He.s able, to the uttermost, to save All those loho come to Ood by Him, for He Forever lives on high to intercede For themr Is it not beautiful to trace The love that Paul had for his countrymen. The Jews % How earnestly he pleads with them For Christ ! How carefully he guards against Their mighty i)rejudices as he X)leads ! [that With what deep love he strives to teach them Our Saviour's priesthood far exceedeth theirs ! And when he ' s clearly proven all of this. So they can not despise his reas'ning grand, 88 FAITH, With one great ^^ wherefore^'' coming from it all, He begs them take Him as their Saviour, too, Because He is so able to Redeem ! I can't conceive how they can still refuse ; Unless they never read Paul's grand appeal ; For it doth seem they could but see his zeal, As "ready to resign his life for them, If they'd believe "^ — and that they would believe. Mary : I thought when Bishop Elmer read that hymn, "O ! ' tis delight without alloy," and looked So earnest, almost weeping, that we'd hear A sermon for reflection all our lives. What gentle dignity and strength sublime In all his mien ; as athlete when he knows He's well prepared to carry of' the prize For which he is contending, and begins His task with surest confidence ; yet still With sweet humility of Christian knight ! And did you notice what he said of when He was still undecided in his mind To preach the Gospel : how his soul was flred, Like other youths, with high ambition's flame, While he knew well from his own father's life The trials of the ministry 1 I felt A thrill of anguish in my heart, and tears OR EARTHLY PARADISE. 89 Came sympathizing with his fait' ring tone. O ! when a man has passed through such ordeal In conquering self, and still clings to the Cross, He ever is a hero in the strife ! For he is ' ' ready to be crucitied, ' ' If it needs be, to tell his Saviour's worth ; And when he preaches with this spirit, hearts Must bow before the majesty of Truth, And souls be saved as trophies of his faith. Faith : And after he had proven all his text, JIow touchingly he queried, "How can they Come unto Christ unless they hear Him preached ? How hear unless the Gospel first be sent?" Then in a burst of thrilling eloquence. As if he wished it heard throughout the earth : " (ro, go ye forth to all the worlds and 'preach ! " And in my mind there rose a vision up Of gifted minister without a wish, Save that of God's great glory, going forth With Bible in his hand, and in his heart A flame of purest love to preach His Word : My soul was full ! I could but deeply think Upon the import of that message grand. Till tears were mine as well as his relief. 90 FAITH, Leander: Yes ! yes ! And yet how very strange it is ' Mid such appeals as this, and such grand proofs Of truth of all within the Bible found, Our youths will still eschew the glorious path Of life like this for merely earthly pomp. We see "professions" crowded ; see young men Of noble worth and lofty intellect All striving for the "Law," or "Medicine,'' Or path of high exalted mental worth. While this profession — grandest of them all — Is so neglected. Can they realize That Paul, with all his learning, was a child, A little child in sj)irit-stature till His eyes were opened by the Son of God, And he beheld life's mission as it is ? How lightly he esteemed his learning all. Compared to Christ ; how earnestly he strove To make amends for wrong-directed zeal Before he was converted ! Who can boast Of prouder intellectual worth than he ? Who now is trained at fam'd Gamaliel's feet? And yet, with every worldly circumstance Enticing him away, he lived for God. And then how grand his readiness for death ; His joy that he had "kept the faith," and had OE EARTHY PARADISE. 91 A "crown of righteousness" laid up for him : And when he thought of wearing that bright crown, His spirit but exulting cried, " death ! Where is thy sting? gram! thy victcyryf'' The lawyer pleads for life of criminal With all his eloquence, till men but feel A wish in unison with his that he May save his client from the scaffold's grasp- But O my soul ! the mighty difference ! The preacher pleads with God that men may flee "The wrath to come," the '''' never-ending death,'' ^ And still men sneering stand if he should seem " Excited " by his mighty theme, which brings Eternal destiny in view of souls ; And scoff him for his very earnestness ! The doctor stands beside his dying friend, And weeps with relatives because he sees There is no hope to save his life : and yet When men of God rise up and tell him that He'll surely die unless he doth '■'■repent,'''' And that no other remedy exists In all the stores of Godhead's pharmacy That e'er can reach his dying state, he smiles, As though some child were talking of his toys. And scorns the tears that righteous man may shed 92 FAITH, In striving thus to woo him from his sins ! O ! for one grain of reason in the soul Of erring, inconsistent, thoughtless man ! How quick the nat'ral darkness were dispelled In gleams of heav'nly glory shining there. Why, e'en the heathen, who at Lystra saw Oiie cripple healed by Paul, esteemed him as A deity, and brought their offerings In attestation of their gratitude : And yet will men see other beings healed Of wondrous sins ; will see their lives all cleansed Through teachings of the Gospel grace, and still Refuse to give it all their hearts' support. The Indian walks abroad at eventide. Beholds the glory of the setting sun. And hears the music of the wand'ring wind, And in his simple, untaught eloquence Will worship his " Great Spirit." Other men Will gaze upon this very beaut' ous earth From infancy to manhood, who have had All means to trace Creation from the plane Of nat'ral loveliness to higher sphere Which tells of its great Maker, God ; will read Perhaps in Holy Writ, and hear it preached. The working of that mighty Spirit which Fills earth with beauty, and our hearts with love OR EARTHLY PARADISE. 93 For all those beauties ; yet refuse belief That they must worship God, or they must die. It scarcely seems it can be possible : And yet we know 'tis only but too true, To reach such men as these the Bishop preached ; No wonder that his heart was full, and that His eyes were brimming with that fullness too. Mary : And when he spoke in few, brief, feeling words Of woman's mission, and of Jesus' love. So tender towards her when He dwelt on earth, I could but bless him from my inmost soul : How never He was known to speak a word Unkind to her ; not e'en when one was brought Of deepest crime that's known to womanhood, Would He condemn her — telling those around : " Whichever one was guiltless cast a stone,'" Thus teaching them by this one stern rebuke, " Do unto others as ye would, that they Should do to you ; ' ' and how they went away ; And then He told her : " 6'6» and sin no more.'''' How diff' rent far from human usage this ! Had He been man, or many a woman then, He would have driv'n this sadly erring one From out His presence with a bitter sneer ; 94 FAITH While those more guilty would have linger' d there : ' And then of liow the women went to weep Around him when He hung upon the cross ; Of how he tried to comfort them ; and how He cared for Mary in His dying hour, And left her with His fav'rite follower : How ' tis not said the Jewish women wished This noble friend of theirs e'er crucified, And Pilate's wife warned him of all the woe A dream had taught her that His death would How He appeared to other Mary when [bring : She went to weep beside her Master's grave, And how He told her, ' ' (7o, and tell the news Of Resurrection to His toaiting friends ; ' ' A wormian was the first to see His form When it was newly risen from the tomb ; A woman tells His own disciples He's Alive again — and they believe her jstot ! It does not seem He scorned the female sex ; He e'er remembered, though Himself Avere God, A woman was His mother^ and would show On this account His great respect for all, Nor scorn His kinship with them. Women should Be His glad foil' wers : for His coming brought OK EARTHLY PARADISE. 95 Not only life Eternal nnto them ; But 'twas the first lone ray of hope that gleamed Upon their paths since Paradise was lost, They should be freed from earthly servitude. But for this precious Gospel we were now, As our poor sex in distant heathen lands, The slaves, the merest chattels of our lords. E'en chivalry, that brightly beaming ray That in past ages brought to her dark way Some faint approach of justice, was but branch, A wild offshoot, from this umbrageous tree That sweetly shelters us from noontide heat Of man's oppressive nature. Can it be A woman e'er can think that she is free Of obligations to the Christian creed ? Nay ! rather let her cling to it as men Would hold to only plank on surging sea To reach the distant port : and it will bring. In lapse of ages, all that we desire To make us happy as this life may be. But faithful to this beacon-light our paths Shall ever lead us in the ways of right ; And though the world may sneer we still shall have Full many a joy the world (^an never give. 96 FAITH, Leander : And this reminds me of a task for yon : Some erring and repentant ones desire A band of women go and pray with them ; And I have told the Bishop's daughter you Would meet her at the corner as she goes. Take our dear child : life is too short at best To do our Maker' s service ; and ' tis well That she begin full early : Christ ne'er fell In sin because He dwelt 'mongst sinners here ; And our jDure child is none less pure when she Shall strive to lead earth's erring ones to heav'n, Mary : Poor wretched ones ! I pity in my heart The anguish sweeping through their lonely souls ; The victims of man's lust, of woman's pride. They live and die, and few e'er go to see How many might to virtue be restored ; Or stop to think how in their circumstance Themselves perhaps had fallen in the snare. {Exeunt Leander and Mary. Faith alone : Sure I am blest as never mortal was In father and in mother ; yet my heart Must sometimes weep for its dear absent love : {She plays and siiigs.) OR EARTHLY PARADISE. 97 Andante. Arr. by A, L, K. 'B^l =ii= 1. And art thou 3, AndO! how I — ^ y ^* #-g — L^ ^0.0, ** J -r3p=fx5ff:«=^ J_^ -'5'- i:Jt^ -t5'- =iS= :«^=z:fz=l -| — h- ;^: -&•— gone, blest my no - ble, and my spir - it had my brave? Art gone for- been then Could I have =!•== -A- :q: '0- :Us: 1 h- -15'- -■G -'^- ev ■ told ~9r er thee P!>.- -A— -2=^- from this lov ing heart? all my heart well knew: -X --^-^ -s)- ■8r-"8* ;1 — 1 — fS" '-a- ±-\ --V 98 FAITH, fj 1 Pi 1 — # Hast found a home That it would ai - ■■■t I -.—4-. --1- =8? -I— bc - yond the storm - y most huist with an - guish ~i9- -t •rziti: '-i^- sr wave; A home wherein my hand can take no when The one should leave, so ten- der and so part? true. 2. How bright the glow with- in those 4. There's not a flower but speak -eth radiant of thy OR EARTHLY PARADISE. 99 eyes When thou didst tell love, There's not a voice me of thy price-less but whispers e'er of -5=;jiii ^^ N- lis i=t love! thee, How soft thy tone as an -gel's from tho Iheresnot a sound but doth in semblance t-^- T»^T=^^^ — ^5=11 tjntzyi* J ' — • — 5 — A •i^^ ^^=^t^^\\ P'^'^^^ Some waft-ed so n - ne t from the far -off sea. 100 FAITH, And art thou ^one, my noble and my brave ? Art gone forever from this loving heart ? Hast found a home beyond the stormy wave, A home wherein my hand can take no part ? How bright the glow within those radiant eyes When thou didst tell me of thy priceless love ! How soft thy tone as angel's from the skies When thou didst woo me from my home to rove ! And O ! how blest my spirit had been then Could I have told thee all my heart well knew ; That it would almost burst with anguish when The one should leave so tender and so true. There's not a flow'r but speaketh of thy love, There's not a voice but whispers e'er of thee, There's not a sound but doth in semblance prove Some wafted sonnet from the far-off sea. I do not hear its boist'rous billows play, I do not see those angry billows roll, But still that ocean-music comes alwaj^ In wailing moan to echo through my soul. O ! noble, gen'rous, dear, devoted heart ! Where'er on earth thy duteous footsteps rove, The gem of manhood's loftiest worth thou art, The hero of this faithful spirit's love. OiR EARTHLY PARADISE. lOl And it shall bless thee as the years go by At morn, at noon, at night with fondest prayer, Until it seeks its "mansion " in the sky. Nor e'er forget to love and ])less thee there. (In singing last ver^e, begin at S)- Scene VII. — Visithig the Erring Ones — Their Con- versioii . Mary : Good morning! We have come to bid you cheer In your resolves of late, and aid you with Our converse and our prayers. It is a sight That angels love when mortals once begin To think of all the consequence of sin. Resolving thence to lead another life : We know how blest it is in hours of grief To share the sympathy of friendly hearts, And we have come to offer ours to you. Rosalind : God bless you for your coming! We had thought [prayer That scarcely one would heed our heart felt Of all this mighty City : we had feared That hearing of kind wishes from our sex Through printing-ink and paper would be all Of woman's sympathy we'd e'er receive. 102 FAITH, O ! did the thousand loving female hearts In this metropolis but know the half [tears That we could tell them, they would find hot Quick rising from them rather than cold sneers. They know not how the tempter lured us : they Believe that Eve and Adam disobeyed, E'en when surrounded by fair Eden's bloom, And God could deign forgiveness unto them ; But when we mortals now in sorrow's hours, And through the lack of human sympathy, Are lured by siren voice to utter ruin, A voice not sounding half so sweet had we But portion of the love that thousands have, They can't forgive — and doom us to despair. How often we had striven to reform, Had but one loving woman's voice essayed To cheer our wasted hearts and ruined lives ! {87ie weeps.) For we believe God's mercy's full enough To reach the case of sinners such as we ; But human beings, mostly our own sex, So scorn our every effort to be free Of former lives, we have no strength to rise To better things : while these same people stand As Christian models in this Christian land. OR EARTHLY PARADISE. 103 Celestine : We do not doubt it ; and believe if we Could hear from your own lips your history, We'd Aveej) far more than when on novel -page We read of fancied heroines of woe, And find but tears can our own grief assuage. Rosalind : I had a lover : he was rich and brave. And promised all that in this life I'd have To make it next to lieav'n — 'twas but a snare To lure me in his wiles ; and then to leave Me weeping in my wretchedness and woe. He said he once had loved another maid, That she'd rejected him, that I should reap The harvest of his own heart's garner' d grief: And yet he said he hox)ed to win her still, And bade me ne'er divulge his wicked life. Because he knew she'd spurn him from her sight. And that he could not live without her love ; That she was fairest, purest, best of earth. And he would die or win her woman's worth. But God has kindly shielded her from him — 'Twas years ago he said it — and I learn That my own Reginald's unmarried still. Faith, toeeping : Yes, he' s un wedded : I had little deemed 104 FAITH, A 711 an could be so foul and yet so fair. I thank you for this warning; for he'd seek To win my heart while yours is like to break ; And though 1 ne'er could love him, I despise Henceforth admiring glances of his eyes, And would escape as from a living death His tender words that come witli treacherous breath, Miriam : I, too, have loved ; and Gideon won my heart With much the same pretenses : we were wed. It was a secret wedding : for he said His relatives were all opposed to me, They knowing it, no pleasure he could see : Thus through sham wedding he has wrought my ruin. I begged him, for the sake of our sweet cliild. To list my mournful pleadings and remain, To help me bear for it life's dreadful curse. That shall perhaps some day drive it to worse Condition still — he only smiled and said, " I should have known that he would never wed One in my station ; I was sweet and fair ; But he'd a home ; I was not Avelcome there." Celtstine, deeply momd : Great God ! And can it be that this is he OR EARTHLY PARADISE. 105 Who songlit my love ? Had not my father been So vigilant and careful ; or had I Not been a child obedient to his will, I might have now been liis affianced bride. I feel like' falling on my Ivnees to thank My God for all His goodness ; and to beg His loving kindness on- these deep-wronged ones. ( Thay all kneel in 'prayer. ) Mary prays : [know' st Tlion, who dost dwell in secret, yet who All that transpires throughout the universe ; Thou, who dost search the heart with piercing eye, And seest its hidden springs of anguish ; Thou Who dwelt on earth that we may dwell in heav'n, And who thus gav'st to all the world a chance Of freest pardon ! look upon us now In tenderness and mercy. Help ! O help Us each to search the inmost heart of each, That each may offer its full praise to Thee. And now, O Lord ! wilt cast one loving smile Upon these wrong'd and erring ones to wake Their bleeding hearts to sense of Thy great Love ; Tlint they may learn to ever worship Thee ; That they may be enabled now to cast 106 FAITH, Their grievous burdens on their Saviour's breast, Who for their ransom hung upon the tree, That they redeemed t'rom all their sins might be. O ! let them realize the precious truth. That Thou dost love them for that Savioiir s sake, And would not have them banished from Thy love. And let this truth now nerve them to resolve Henceforth whatever life may have in store For them of scorn or contumely here, Whate'er of woe without, or grief within, Wliate'er of cravings still towards death and sin. That through the aid of Thy blest Spirit, they Thy will alone through life will now obey — O ! send that x^recious Spirit now — this day — And let it here O Lord ! forever stay ; That when Thy righteous will on earth is done. They too may serve Thee 'round Tliy glorious throne. Tlity rise and sing : O Tliou ! who never didst disdain To hear a sinner's vow. Look down on all the bitter woe Of those who worshi^j now : OR EARTHLY PARADISE. 107 Remember all Thy agony While hanging on the tree, As sinners passing near reviled, And looked with scorn on Thee. And let some tender stream of love Prom Thy dear, bleeding side Pour in these souls a cordial sweet For griefs that now betide. Thou, who didst bless the dying thief, Ere death had closed his eyes. Let each of these now firm resolve To meet Thee in the skies. Thou, who didst send the "Comforter" To Peter's bleeding heart, •. Wlien thrice he had denied Thy name, And bade its grief depart ; ! send Thy self- same Spirit now Into this sad abode. To strengthen all their hopes of heav'n. And lead them on to God. Forbid that sin should e'er again Invade each aching breast ; But may they henceforth follow Thee Till they shall find Thy rest ; 108 FAITH, And there amid the blood-washed throng, The " crystal stream " beside, They'll praise Thee in an endless song. Their Saviour and their Guide. {^Exeunt Mary, Celestine, and Faith. Angels sing: Glory ! glory ! to the Father ! Glory ! to the dying Son ! Since such good His precious coming For the lost of earth hath done ! Yea, ten thousand times ten thousand ! Glory ! to the Saviour, God ; For they've tasted of the anguish Of the path Himself hath trod. Glory |o the Holy Spirit, Coming from the heav'nly throne ! It has taught them all the blessing Of believing it their own ; It has told them in its language That they each have been forgiven ; It has promised them a dwelling In the glorious courts of heaven ! Scene VIII. — Marfs Happy Death. Mary: Ope wide the curtains, daughter ! Let me see The glory of the springtime spread around : OE EARTHLY PARADISE. 109 It ever was such sweet delight to me To trace His presence througlioiit nature's scenes, And find my heart responding to the glow Of love eternal brightly beaming there. The Winter's wind and snow remind me too Of Him who rules o'er all: but when the spring Comes forth each nature's resurrection-morn, My heart is filled to overflowing with His love and goodness towards the sons of men ; And 'tis not hard to die when all 's so fair, And Heav'n itself 's so bright reflected there. Leandei\ loeeping : - [here My darling ! WouM that we could hold thee A little brief while longer ! When I think Of all our happy days together spent, It seems to me my heart will surely break When thou art gone. How beaut'ous was the morn We pledged our life-long love ! how calm the eve We stood together ; and the man of God Said we were one ! And O ! how proud my heart. When claiming thee as its own life-long prize. And then when Faith, our darling baby-child. Came nestling with us, such a newborn joy Thrilled through my soul I felt I never could Enough be thankful to Him you were mine. 110 FAITH Our child will still be left me — but how lone Will be my widow'd heart when thou art gone ! A part of my own soul thou'st been to me ; So fond, so loyal your deep sympathy In every worthy word, and thought, and deed : And when I erred so gently wouldst thou lead Me back to right — O ! I shall miss the pow'r, My talisman in many a trying hour, Thy spirit gave for good : I know we'll meet, Beyond this world, where life is all so sweet And so enduring ; but, my precious love ! My spirit craves its own dear chosen mate To cheer existence here, however late Mary, loeeping : My darling husband ! you have given all The wealth of your blest manhood's worth to me, Except the love that God claimed as His own. Your noble heart was my own spirit's throne, In which your Mary ever reigned supreme : And if you knew the solace that the thought Of all your love thus given brings me now, Your heart were surely cheered beneath this blow. ' Twas e'er your one desire to cherish me As womanhood and mothei'hood should be ; And in my dying hour I thank you for The constancy of your true manhood's love. OR EARTHLY PARADISE. Ill No otlier earthly boon could so have cheered My woman's heart through all the scenes of life, As this hath done. My soul's sincerest prayer Is that thy life henceforth may be as blest As mine hath been with thee ! And that when thou Shalt find the death-dew gathering on thy brow, There may be one to cheer as thou dost now. My darling daughter ! our dear, only child ! How sad this hour did I not know thy heart Were stayed on God's own strength, and that thy life Were cheered by such devoted father's care : O ! love him ! trust him ! next unto thy God. And shouldst thou ever link thy fate to his, The noblest of his race, except my own Leander dear, O ! don' t forget to cheer With fond affection still thy father here : Still let his precious daughter's spirit bless His own true heart in its deep loneliness ; Methinks ' twill cheer me e'en in yon briglit heav'n. To know such faithful love to him is giv'n. F'aith, weejnng : Yea, dearest mother ! I shall ever be As true to him as he hath been to thee : 112 FAITH For it has gladdened all my life to see His tenderness and constancy to thee. I could not doubt of manhood's noblest worth, When he so proved it in his '• daily walk, And conversation " with us here alone : Without this proof I ne'er had surely known. Till late in life, there was snch manhood's worth. And love for him, for thee too, though away, Shall cheer with some sweet light my darksome path ; While we shall never, never cease to pray To meet thee in the realms of endless day, Where thus devoted we shall live alway. Mary^ more cahnly : Yes, darling ! we shall meet again ! Before I ever saw thy baby-face I felt Thou wouldst a blessing be through all of time, A blessing too through all Eternity. And as the years went circling by I knew An angel had been lent me from the sky ; And thanked my God for my dear motherhood, This one blest crown of glory to our sex, A crown to shine but brighter as the years Of earth speed on, and which shall tell its worth In countless souls redeemed around the Throne, To shout His praises there forevermore. " OR EARTHLY PARADISE. 113 Yea ! something tells me through my mother- hood And thine, a blessing shall be giv'n the world The worth of which yon heav'n alone can tell ; And this thought cheered me now as once it cheered The heart of Sarah as she jiassed away — My darling husband ! child ! come nearer ! I Would clasp you once again before I die ; Would place on lips of each my dying kiss Before I leave vou for the realms of bliss. {She kisses them', then closes her eyes and says ;) The Lord my Shepherd is ; I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in pastures green : And leadeth me beside the waters still. ! praise the Lord ! Restoreth He my soul : He leadeth me in paths of righteousness, For His name's sake He leadeth me. Yea, though 1 walk through lonely vale of darksome shades Of death itself I will no evil fear : For Thou art with me still ; Thy gracious rod And Thy strong staff they sweetly comfort me. His goodness and his mercy's surely mine Through all life's days: and I will gladly dwell 114 FAITH, Forever in the presence of my Lord. {She opens her eyes^ saying :) I see them now ! The flashing of their wings Snch bliss divine, and heav'nly transport brings — I liear the grandest song that e'er can be ! The wondrous tones of its sweet melody An echo is of heav'n's own symphony — [now ; They've come for me! They gather 'round me I feel their breath upon my clammy brow : They raise me uj) — to lieav'n they si:)eed my way — Farewell ! farewell ! poor tenement of clay ! Leander, weeping: Didst ever see such beauty on her face Before, my child 1 She surely just has seen An angel band ; for their late presence here Reflected is upon her features dear. Faith, weeping: I never did ; I thought her very fair In life ; but more than earthly beauty's there. ( They clasp each other, and kneel beside her bed.) Angels sing : O ! the glory ! O ! the glory ! Of this one triumphant hour For the liberated sjnrit, In unfetter'd spirit-power ! OR EARTHLY PARADISE. 115 Here it beat against its prison, Waiting fondly all the while For the blessing of its freedom, For its Father's gracious smile Tliat should woo it all so quickly Far away from scenes of earth That should tell it all so sweetly What its own enduring worth — They have passed the jiearly gateway, She has reached His kingdom now — Angels meet her— Christ doth greet her With a "new name" on her brow. Cease thy weeping ! cease thy weeping ! For she now is far more blest Than she could be here for ages, Pillow'd on thy faithful breast — Cease thy weeping ! cease thy WTei)ing ! O ! thou child of matchless worth. She's now wooing both your spirits Far beyond the realms of earth. We were with her when she enter'd. And we saw the Saviour' s smile As she gladly hasten' d to Him, Saints rejoicing all the while ; 116 FAITH, Quick He clasped her to His bosom. Quick slie joined the ransom'd tlironu-, VVHiile tlie happy hosts of heaven Raised a new and wondrous son^i,- : Hallehiiali ! halleluiah ! Christ tlie monster, Death, hath shiin, And from each blest blood-bouglit spirif Washed away all earthly stain — Halleluiah ! halleluiah ! Father, Son, nnd Holy Ghost, (Tlad we praise the Triune Godhead Which redeemed us from the lost. Scene IX. — Fidelia Comforts Faith — Relates her 07vn history. Faith : Come, sit beside me, dear Fidelia ! for I feel the need of human comfort now : I've sung, and prayed, and wept, and now 1 long For loving tones of sympathizing heart To cheer my sadness — O ! it seems so lone. Whene'er my father leaves me for awhile, To dwell here when my precions mother's gone. The rooms are so deserted ! Everything Around is like it were my own sweet home ; But there's such stillness when my father's gone : OK EAKTIILY PARADISE. 117 I miss her loving presence everywhere. I strive to cheer mv heart with music's strain, It only wakes my grief afresh again ; I wander 'mid the tlow'rs, they only telJ, " She's absent now who loved us once so well"; I turn to minstrel-page, but there're the lines She'd say, " where such unearthly beaut j'^ shines" ; And when I strive to read God's gracious Word, Her loving accents in each page are heard. ' Tis only when my father talks with me That aught of cheerfulness my life doth see — (She weeps. ) () ! who hath mourned a faithful-mother dead, And hath not then life's bitter st tear-drops shed ! Fidelia, deeply moved : I know 'tis great, my darling friend ! your grief. One of the greatest earth can ever bring : Yet there are griefs, my dearest one ! that bear Upon the heart with heavier weight than this. You talk with others of your mother's love, Her life so beautiful, her faith so great, And death triumphant, and your heart can find Some slight relief for its deep, piercing woe In tears that come with sym]»athetic flow. But there are sorrows some in life do know Of which they durst not sjjeak one time in years ; 118 FAITH Griefs much too sad for sympathetic tears From aught but souls of purest, loftiest worth ; And these, alas ! are far too few on earth. I ne' er have told you of my history : Your own sweet life did e'er so pleasant seem — I would not mar it by my own's sad dream Of unrequited love. Perhaps 'twould soothe You now, in hour of deep distress, to know That others too have borne their cross of woe ? Faith^ recoTiering her com/posure : Yes, dearest ! I would gladly listen now To saddest tale of grief that e'er was told ; ' Twould take ni}' thoughts from self, and fix them on The anguish that some other heart hath known. Till I would half forget to weep my own. Fidelia : I was an orphan child : the same bright day That brought me life, took mother's too away ; And soon my father died. They say he grieved Himself to death for her sad, sudden loss, And in delirious wand' rings said that he Could nothing less than foulest murd'rer be. Physicians strove to woo him back to life ; But e'er when reason came, remembrance too Of her he'd loved and lost would rack his soul, OK EARTHLY PARADISE. 119 Till they no longer could disease control. They buried him in self-same grave with her : And then a pair of strangers took the babe They botli had loved as their own life to raise. My early years were bright enough : they gave Me every earthly comfort wealth could crave, And books and teachers youthful hours beguiled Till they almost esteemed me as their child ; For tliey had none. And thus as years sped by I little recked the woe awaiting me ; But looked on life as some bright, sunny dream, With naught to mar its beauty save the thought Sometimes of how I should have loved to see Such parents as they said mine were, and hear Prom their sweet lips their love for me so dear. My guardian was a cold, proud, worldly man, Such as in life we only once may meet ; His wife a woman fair to see, yet weak Enough to think that woman's life consists In dressing tine, and playing some few tunes, And marrying then a man with jjocket full Of golden dust, no matter what his wealth Of mind, or heart, or soul may chance to be. These things I did not comi)rehend just tlien ; But as the years go by, so plain they show I often wonder they escaped me then. 120 . FAITH, My school-days o'er, we traveled 'round until I was full weary of the world, and longed For quietude and home again : and there We "entertained," and "were so entertained," I often felt relieved to steal away. With book in hand, to quiet, lovely dell Near by the house, to think my own thoughts well. Thus sev'ral sunny years in gladness sped. All much alike ; and still I was not wed. A handsome stranger came : his name they said Was Eric ; and he "bravest of the brave," And wealth immense in his own right did have. My guard' an, Mr. Emmery, and wife. Were much delighted when young Eric showed So plainly pref'rences for me ; and more When he declared to them that he would be Most happy to succeed in winning me. They bade him hope ; but never let me know That they had promised too to aid him so. We walked, and rode, and talked, and visited. And all the while he so devoted seemed With delicate attentions, such as men Of polished mien and cultivated mind Can onlj^ give, and which so sweetly win A woman's heart, I could but give him mine. OR EARTHLY PARADISE. 121 ! I remember well the beaut' ous day He told me that he loved me : with a burst Of thrilling eloquence he vowed his love, And how devoted e'er his life would prove To me but pledging love to him in turn. We were affianced : and when he arose To leave my side just at the sunset hour, And I beheld the dim moon rising too Above horizon's canopy of blue, 1 thought God ne'er had made another day As bright as this. And when the night had come. And moon and stars were shining bright around, I went alone, without a light save that [sent, The Hooding moonbeams through the windows And sat me down beside my harp to sing A sweet, sweet song in token of my joy. All nature seemed rejoicing then with me ; And when I gently slumber' d ' twas to dream That he had told me of his love again. I was so happy I could scarcely spare A moment from bright day-dreams of my love To give to preparations : others made With friendly hearts and kindly hands these last, Without a word of ref'rence to the fact, Which now I know they must have plainly seen ; I was indiff'rent quite unto them all. 122 FAITH My joy was perfect ; and I did not need The pageantries of style to make it more : But would liave gone, had he consented thus, Without the slightest pretense of parade, And pliglited vows within the quiet church I e'er had loved from childhood's sunny days. The nuptials came : I was too happy far To care for converse with my best loved friends ; Days, weeks, and months then swiftly glided on. And with my Eric I was happy still. But changes came at last : for he loved change In everything. I found alas ! he was A man so violent in angry moods, When slightest wish but chanced to cross his will, That his own kindred feared him ; and that he Had been from childhood thus allowed to rule The family from dread of rousing him. I also found what I believed his faith In Christian creed was shallow as could be. Instead of what he made pretense to me : ' Twas but a feint to win my faithful heart By seeming semblance to itself ; and then To tear that heart as vulture rends his prey, That bleeds and quivers in its living death. For firm belief in some sweet Christian creed Essentia] was unto my nature as OR EAKTHLY PARADISE. 123 My daily bread ; I could not live without The strength it gave. I ne'er could look, abroad Upon tlie world without beholding there Such striking evidence of Love, Design, That had I never heard of Christ's great death, Nor of the blessings that it brought to man, I must have still gazed on the glowing skies, And listed to the music of the wind, And said within my spirit's inmost cell, The *' Great, Great Spirit " now is wooing me. He seemed to think my firm adherence to What I deemed duty as a wish to tlee From wifely love, obedience unto him. I prolfer'd change of creed, if he.would join Sincerely, rev'rently in any one, Save Popish doctrines : but he could not see That there was aught for him at all to do In this great matter save to govern me ; As though religion were a worldly thing. That one might have for one's whole family. I could not deem it thus ; and could not feel That moral obligations would allow A change ujion a basis such as this : Tlierefore he was exacting more with me, A^ccusing oft of foul hypocrisy. When I would strive in some poor, humble way 124 FAITH, To follow paths where Christian duty lay ; Still seeming reckless of the better thought, That must, had he allow' d it, still have taught That there was something for him too to do : He would be free himself, but Christians bind To never show the frailties of mankind ; He would the "mote" discern in their poor eyes, Yet still the mighty "beam" in his desj^ise ; Besides, he had a female relative Who envious, joyed to see our lives divide. The breach kept wid'ning, till at last he'd speak In manner which my heart would almost break ; Would raise his hand with stern and cruel blow Towards her who e'er had prized his fondness so. ! 'twas a living death to give him up ! To think the one I once had deemed so kind In grand concerns as these should prove so blind. Like Saul, he was so zealous in his views, 1 could but hope for years that, too, like him, The "scales" might fall from off his eyes; and . then, [right — As Paul, he would as zealous prove in ways of O ! love like mine was sure idolatry. In all those days of early married bliss ! It seemed to me the bending of his arm, Encased in handsome suit had more of grace OR EARTHLY PARADISE. 125 Than any other mortal's; and his foot Was more becoming to his shoe than e'er I'd seen before ; and when he'd mount his steed To ride away, I'd looli until he passed From view, admiring steed and rider too ; And when he had returned, no otlier man CoukI have dismounted with such perfect grace, And ease unto himself as he would do. And when he'd take me on his knee, and fold His loving arms about my form, and sing, "There's room enough in Paradise," I thought That Paradise had surely come to me. Sometimes in after years, I' d pray for him. With streaming eyes, until his heart would melt. And he would seem so like his former self, I could but nestle in his arms and weep Myself to sleep ; and then I'd hope for change, Sweet change in him — but ah ! His Word declares, "Some seed shall fall in seeming fertile ground. Spring quickly up, as quick be withered found"; And thus my every hope's fruition seemed But mockery of what I'd fondly dreamed Would come in lapse of years. The bitter cuji, I had so dreaded — I must give him up — And seek yon home above with lonely heart, . Seemed pressed unto my lips. Again — again — 126 FAITH, I "begged the cup might pass" — 'twould still remain. But in those hours of dreadful agony The "Comforter" would come and bless my soul With nearer glimpse of lieav'n than e'er before. When night was dark, my weeping eyes were closed [stream," With bitt'rest thoughts, I'd see the "crystal And "loved ones gone before" beside it stand Within refreshing shades inviting me To come and rest beneath Life's glorious tree ; And something whisjier'd I should happy be Whene'er my soul from earthly strife was free. Faith : Had you no children, dear Fidelia ? I Would think a child had gladden' d then your heart. Fidelia : Yes, darling ! two : one was a lovely boy, ■ The pride of his fond father's doting heart ; The other, sweetest girl I ever saw. And well belov'd by her dear father, too. I hoped so much his fond paternal love Would be God's means to instill within his heart Correcter views of life and duty ; for His children were the "aj^i^le of his eye" ; OR EARTHLY PARADISE. 127 And for their sakes I hoped that he would try To find again the path of true home love, Where each to each might still a blessing prove. This, too, was vain — I saw it wither, die ; And then I knew the last fond hope was gone. Except the hope of Heav'nly Father's hand, Which He, in His own time, might stretch forth, and ["brand." He from the flames be i^lucked as burning I did not weep as bitterly as some Perhaps had done, when burning fever came On pestilential air and snatched from me My children's forms. For I had learned to fear To s^ them growing up beneath that roof. To have their lives embitter' d by his deeds, x'lnd words, and then go forth into the world With all its snares, unfitted for the strife. They placed them side by side in one deep grave ; And in that grave I buried every Iwpe, Save that of lieav'n above. — And soon he left His home to come no more : long years have passed, Nor single word have brought me of his fate ; And I suppose it likely he is dead. Yet sometimes in my'dreams I see his form, And hear his low, sweet tones caressing me. 1 28 FAITH, And dare to think perhaps some lovely day, Just ere my spirit goes to meet its God, He'll come again with heart and mind all changed. To bless me with the tender love of yore ; As sunshine conies at eve of stormy day To cheer the weejung world with parting ray. Faith : ' Tis very, very sad ! I scarce can see How you could live through trials like to tliese : It seems to me should a dear lover e'er Prove false, or least unkind to me. Fd die. Fidel /a : You know, my dear ! a promise has been inade. That "as we need, so shall new strength be giv'n": [lieav'n. Through this sweet ivromise some shall ent^r I've somewhere read that purest moral worth Has ever been a sure exciting cause Of hatred from God's enemies tow'rds all Who dare so brave the world as to prefer This worth to all its glitter and parade. And yet this self-same precious worth is sure To bring some healing for its own deep woes. i^nd were it not thus Christ Himself had sunk Beneath the sorrows of Gethsemane ; oil EARTHLY PAKADISE. 129 For his great heart bewailed the more its weight Because His own disciples treacKrousliand Consigned Hiin to this crucible of grief. In suffering thus intensely for the wrongs That others do we but resemble Him, Who "tread the wine-press of God's wrath alone" ; And yet no unforgiving word was known To escape His lips : He died in grandeur there That we may imitate His life through prayer, And fnith and charity like unto His. How sweetly Paul sings of this charity ! And says, " It never i'aileth "; though the world, And all therein shall pass away, 'twill stand "The greatest of the three," in that bright land Where we shall see "not through a glass," but see Then " face to face " whatever each may be. And there, perhaps, it may be, I will lind My Eii(; not the worst of all mankind : There may have been in his unletter'd will Some noble traits I reckon'd not ; and still There may be some mysterious way of God To turn him from the j)ath he long has trod ; And when I reach yon brightly shining shore, We there may meet again to part no more. 130 FAITH, Faith : Had you no other lovers % When this woe Came deluging your lonely heart-strings so, Did you not turn with fond remembrance then To other loves you ne'er shall see again, And hnd in thoughts of them some comfort deep For bitter grief that o'er your soul would sweep % Fidelia : Yes, several : one a gifted poet-boy, Who ever seemed to love his muse to employ In singing verses to " Fidelia's" j)raise ; And gladden d thus life's earliest summer days. Faith : The woman's blest who wins a poet's love. And strings his lyre for ages yet to come ; The man's a hero poetess doth sing ; For thousand hearts shall vibrate to their praise. And they who're crowned with honor grand as this Are surely blest to wake such wondrous lays, And can' t complain of lack of earthly bliss. Sometimes an undeserving one may strive To take high jilace within a poet's strain ; But his unearthly intuition gives Him warning : while a worthy one will find Song welling forth from gifted one lo him, OR EARTHLY PARADISE. iBl As birdling's music welcomes every spring ; Or as great rivers still v^ill find the sea, Howe'er remote their o^^n deep source may be. Didst never answer his sweet, touching strain ? Faith : Once, only once, answered back again ; For his proud muse would soar away so high I could not hope to reach it 'neath the sky, And was content to list unto its song, Tiiat all the while would How so sweet along. Faith : L:it's hear your verses to him ? I will keep Remembrance of them in my heart so deep ' Twill woo my thoughts away when I wouhl weep Beside the grave where she I loved doth sleep. Fichdia : When Cohnnbia proudly claims thee As her great and noble son, When she honors and esteems thee For the laurels thou has won ; Think of me. Wlien the poets gladly crown thee With the wreaths that ne'er decay. And the sun of glory 'round thee Sheds its bright and dazzling ray ; Think of me. 13'2 FAITH, When the eve of life retains thee On the pinnacle of fame, And the hope that now sustains thee Reaps a great and glorious name ; Think of me. Wlien thy dearest friends surround thee To receive thy las.t farewell, And thy spirit gladlj^ bears thee In Elysian fields to dwell ; Think of me. Faith: I thank you much : didst never write again When other lovers sought to win thy hand '. Fkldia : Yes, once again : a proud and gifted man. That few of all around could rightly know, Because he was supeiior to them so, [my side, By some strange chance would ofttimes seek His wit and eloquence tlt)wed in a tide Refreshing to my serious views of life. And made his visits all with pleasure rife. Sometimes he'd bring a book, sometimes fresh flowers To aid out converse through the sunny hours ; Sometimes he'd read in deep and thrilling tone OR EARTHY PARADISE. 133 A piece from fa v' rite bard that when he'd gone Would linger still in mem'ry and in heart. Sometimes I'd play and sing some of his songs, With that sweet freedom tliat fore'er belongs To woman when she finds a noble heart In manhood's form, that will not censure throw On any act of kindness she may show. [learn He seemed surprised and j)leased that 1 should The verses he had penned for other friends, And which he seemingly had careless brought For me to read. He found my woman's heart Was free from every wile of woman's art, When she is striving other hearts to win. That no dark jealous throb e'er lodged within ; And thus I think his love for me began ; Which once begun, but in a torrent ran. And none save Eric's love e'er filled my soul Witli joy like that of his : he was so grand, So reticent to other beings, and With words and looks of tend 'rest love to me, His heart fiowed out in one unbounded sea. He was an orphan like myself ; yet we On many subjects still would disagree ; And then his lively badinage would throw A veil of humor o'er our converse so, ' Twas sure to end by my soon giving o'er 134 FA.ITH, To his opinion : y<^t in every jest There was the tone oi" one who loved me best Of all the world, who ne'er had loved before, And ne'er would love another woman more. He told his love in his peculiar way : Some show of j)leasantry w^s thrown around His tend' rest words; yet his expressive eye Revealed the fact its tear-drops then did lie Too near the surface for his firm control, And he was speaking from his inmost soul His love for me. I gave no answer then — Unless he read my answer in my face — Rut told him I would surely give it when He called again. That eve I wrote these lines I've been dreaming ! I've been dreaming ! Of an hour that yet shall come, When mine eyes shall see the sunshine Of a bright and happy home. I've been dreaming ! I've been dreaming ! Of a noble, manly form That shall share my hours of gladness. And x^rotect me from the storm. I've been dreaming! I've been dreaming ! How my orphan heart shall bound OK EARTHLY PARADISE. 135 At the eclio of a footfall When that worthy one is found. r ve been dreaming ! I've been dreaming ! How its every hope shall twine ' Round the being that I cherish When that happy lot is mine. That night I dreamed of Eden's How'ry bloom, And Hugh and I were walking 'mid it there ; While ever and anon an angel song Came softly trembling on the evening air. How sweet is nature when we know we love, And are belov'd in turn ! Its ev'ry fiow'r Seems telling of our own affianced hour, Its gushing melody of wild-bird's song To our own dream of bliss must sure belong, And murm'ring accent of the wand' ring breeze Seems telling of that love to all the trees. Thank God for nature's beauty ! It shall last Till earth and time forever both are past ; While self-same joy that thrills youth's heart- strings now Shall thrill again with each successive vow Innumerable lovers all shall i)light, Before there'll come the pall of nature's night, 1 36 FAITH, Which ushers in the grand celestial throne, Where only joys more lasting shall be known. Faith : And where are now your lovers ? Both are true, I know, where'er they be, still true to you. Fidelia : The former now is high on lists of fame, Unfading laurels crown his deathless name ; And yet they say he ne'er has thought to wed, Though sprinkled with light gray's his honored His early love perhaps he has forgot [head : In all the whirl of life — perhaps has not. The other left me on that beauteous eve To come no more. 'Twas said a message brought Strange news to him ; and that he went afar. He wrote me word he ne'er would love but me. And begged me ever faithful to him be : A few more weeks there came a sad report That he had died in distant city, and In death had vowed his love for only me. I grieved full long : then Eric came ; we loved ; And thus my life hath e'er so luckless proved. Faith : [thonght And yet, methinks, there's comfort in the Two constant lovers have your spirit sought ; And proved, the one in life, the one in death. OR EARTHLY PARADISE. 137 Their heart's best treasures they did both bequeath. Fidelia : Yes, I believe if now they both should come, I'd welcome them alike to my sad home, And cherish them as brothers kind and true, Who ne'er but love for their dear sister knew : I hear of one's advancement with fond pride. Because he once hath lingered at my side ; The other one I trust hath gone to heav'n, With heart all fresh, and ev'ry sin forgiv'n. Leander, entering : I thank you much, Fidelia, that you came To comfort my poor child when I was gone ; 'Tis sad, indeed, to leave her here alone. Faith : O, father ! she hath cheered my wretched heart As no one else had done : I wouhl she could Always abide with me, that when my grief Seems overflowing she might sppak relief. Leaiider : Yes, 'twould be cheerful sometimes were she here. Where now, when I am gone, ' tis all so drear. FaM : Wilt dwell with me Fidelia? I can prize 1 38 KATTH, The love-Jight now witJiin those sadden'd eyes ; And tlion slialf, be an ehler sister dear Thy younger sister's sorrowing steps to cheer, Fidelia : ' 'I'were sure but right if I can thus bestow Some comfort on thee never hence to go ; For in this briglit, this wide, this s'linny earth No one dotli better prize my own poor worth, [Exeunt Leander and Faith. Fidelia, alone : The night is dark ; I scarce can grope my way ; For ch)uds are low'ring : yet I know the morn Shall break forth gloriously ! Why should earth So glad to youth : so sorrowful to age ^ [seem Tt can not be because we less deserve ; For all who live, and love, and strive to do Their Maker's will must gain some faint api)roach Towards Deity. And is not this because The more we suffer, are refined thereby, The more we bear some faint resemblance to That perfect type of man and Godhead who Once died in life because of mortal's sins. And lived in death because of Godhood's worth f And when we look with genial, loving eye On youth and youth I'ul grace, does not the tliouglit OR EARTHLY PARADISE. 139 That in that youth there dwells the ojerm of nge Oft give our heai'ts their gladness ? We revere That we deem old : and are not human souls Beyond all time in reck'ning ? And these give Their all of beauty, gi-ace, or worth unto Our fragile forms— O ! I have often talked With aged woman who has thought, a. deal. In dreaiy hours of night, about the soul, Its origin, its mission, destiny, Until I almost felt the " veil was rent," And I were walking 'mid the glory -beams Of spirit-presences that cluster ' round The one Great Throne Eternal ! I have wept O'er some great sorrow till my heart it seemed Had burst asunder ; and the loving hand Of Mary's loving Son Himself had healed Its broken fragments with His wondrous toucii. And strung it all afresh beside the stream Of "living waters": while my "loved ones lost, And gone before," but seemed more near and dear [balm ? Than e'er in life ! Canst tell me whence this ' Tis not of proud Philosophy ; for vain Would be each effort by my reason's pow'r To be thus moved ; and Science knows no law That goes beyond the mind, and finds the soul. 140 FAITH, Yea ! I have heard a gifted preacher speak Until his theme had borne me to the line Where reason flags — and then a wondrons pow'r, Not born of earth, stretched forth its bnoyant wings, And bore my spirit to the very gates Of what we term the ' ' New Jerusalem ! ' ' My mortal ears could almost catch the sound. Across the splashing waves of Jordan's stream, That wakes the vast expanse we know as Heav'n With seraph-singing: and my mortal eyes. Disdaining earthly sights, could almost glimpse That "house not made with hands" where God now dwells ; And all my being seemed as new and fresh As though I just had come from His own hand. Are we not kin to God % Did not His Son Once dwell on earth to teach us that we are His " younger brothers," and "joint heirs" with Him Of life beyond ? Ah, yes ! we can not die ! And it were worth an age of care and woe. Of desolation, grief of heart to know That we shall spend one hour with Him on high; That these poor earthly temples shall be built Upon a nobler plan, so spiritual. OR EARTHLY PARADISE. 141 That tliey shall aid, not clog us in our march Through endless ages on towards Deity ; That there our souls, unfetter'd by their rude Companionship with clay, shall merge and merge. As years eternal sweep their cycles on, More towards their Great Original, the God Who says "I was, and am, and shall be e'er"; While earth, and hell, and heav'n shall all proclaim The matchless glories of His Triune Name. Angels sing : O ! the balm, the " balm of Gilead," That hath follow' d Adam's fall. It can cure with surest healing Earthly sorrows, one and all ! O ! the wondrous stream of Mercy Plowing from the Saviour's side. It can cleanse the mighty nations With its sweeping currents wide. O ! the wooings of that Spirit Christ Himself did deign to send. When through mortal hate and envy His grand mission found an end — Yet not ending ; for it bringeth Comfort to each aching heart, And a gladness that can never Through Eternity depart. 1? 142 FAlTlt, Then, O ! then, shall each blest spirit Drink from out Life's "crystal stream, Till the burden of its sorrows Shall appear but as a dream, That could mar its pleasure only For a j)assing moment, while Endless and ecstatic ages It shall bask in God's own smile. ACT III. Scene I. — Hubert's Love for Faith ; or the Teviptation. H'lihei't, entering : I'm glad to tell you, sir! we'll have a speech To-night, more brilliant than has here been heard Since earlier days of this Repul)lic ; for Theodoric addresses citizens On obligations of our ev'ry law. As found iti Constitution of the States. 'Tis said that some will there be present, too. To damp his ardor lest it rise too high In cause of truth and justice. I have come To bring a message from my sister for Miss Faith : with her consent we'll take her, too ; For well we know her rev'rence of the right. And think she'll much enjoy the brave defense OR EARTHLY PARADISE, 143 Durable Senator will make to-niglit In cause of sorrowing nation's liberty, And condemnation of chicanery Prevailing far too much throughout the land. Leander : I am rejoiced to know he will em^^loy His eloquence and wisdom in defense Of freedom, and the people's bleeding rights. I'll go myself ; for long my heart hath mourned The desolation spread throughout the land, Resulting from corruption in high place. No doubt my daughter will be glad to know Miss Lilian and yourself both prize her so, Desiring her sad j)resence in the throng. She has been grieving here at home full long For one so young : perhaps 'twill cheer her heart To list to oratory's healing art, And mingle with the crowd as others do. And then ' twill much instruct her too ; for she Is quite ambitious in her wish to be The peer of any, in her woman's way : I'll go and tell her of the news you bring. [Exit Leander. Hubert, alone: Ah ! I had thought wlien we were coming back. And Lilian's lover lingered slow along 1 44 FAITH The way with her, and moon was shining bright, And Heav'n was smiling, and the city lay So sweet and qniet in the lap of night, That I would tell her of my manhood's love ; And hox)ed perhaps it too might aid to heal The grievous sorrow that her heart doth feel — But he is going too ! What shall I do ? It must be known to her — I can't delay For longer time to tell her of my love. Faith, entering : I'm quite obliged to Lilian and yourself For kindness shown ; and will be sure to go. I have not heard a grand oration for So long a time I think 'twill rouse niv mind CD *J To olden dreams of glory, and thus break Tlie chains my sorrow weaves for weejjing's sake. Hnhenrt : I thought you never dreamed of glory : I Remember well your earnest reference To mission-cause, now sev'ral years ago, And deemed your heart did ne'er but duty know, Faith : ^ Tis true, for years I have desired to be To duty faithful whatsoe'er betide ; But in the far-off yeai-s of long ago Ambition's dreams I, too, once learned to know : UR EARTHLY PARADISE. 145 But they are past ; I see life as it is, And would not liave ambition be its star ; To hear that speech will bring again the bliss I once enjoyed in dreams of glory ; while 'Twill not divert me from mv Father's smile. Hubert : I tliink a high ambition worth the life. All spent in deep devotion to its cause, Of worthiest man. It must be nobly grand To realize we have the pow'r to sway Such audience vast as waits for him to-day. And lead it by the accents of one's tongue Through llow'ry meads, or mountain-i)atlis along : To see the highest, noblest in the land Pay homage to your nat'ral gift so grand. The men of proudest intellect as well As hum])ler ones all own the magic spell Of matchless eloquence ; while woman's smile Of sweet appreciation cheers the while — O ! I would give a royal kingdom now If but one half the honor crowned my brow Theodoric has worn for years ; for I Have fa V 'rite scheme to be advanced thereby. Faith : And whj^, at not a very distant day. Should you not wear sucli laurels as his own \ 146 FAITH, You know the proverb, " will but makes a way" To almost anything : and I believe Were you or any one, to center all Their hopes, exertions towards some single aim The world would surely recognize your fame. There's much of usefulness before the man Wlio with a patriot heart, and patient mind Will study well his Country's interests now. I honor all such students far too well To aught detract from bright bewitching spell That gifted tongue may add to such career ; And yet to me there is a path more dear For manhood's noblest worth ; but you and I Have each the right to well admire the path Whichever our own best endeavors hatli. Hubert, taking a seat beside her : But would that you could think as I in this : I'm young ; some say I'm gifted ; and my life Perhaps might prove a blessing to mankind, Were I but aided by a noble wife. Who'd cheer me on in glory's toilsome way. I know of none so worthy as yourself. Of none whom my fond heart could e'er prefer To stand beside me when I reached the chair Of Presidential office. 'Tis my dream To In-ing such honor on some woman's life, OR EARTHLY PARADISE. 147 To be the husband of a lovely wife Who will not wed me for promotion's sake, And yet who will a lively int'rest take In every thing j^ertaining to my weal, And sweetest joy in all my honors feel. It seems to me a woman well might love One who for her could thus so valiant prove ; One who would strive with every fleeting breath Not only dearest home-joys to ]>equeatli, But who would gladly toil to place her name Along with heroes' on the lists of fame ; One who amid his triumphs all would pause To listen gladly to his wife's ap})lause, As famous statesman o'er tlie waters far, D'lsiaeli, but found his guiding star To earthly greatness in his wife's sweet smile, More cherished than the world's applause the while. I would not win a love to leave her lone While I in glory's lists were l)attling on ; I'd have her alway gladly at my side To cheer and comfort whatsoe'er betide — And O ! how blest such mission here would l)e With woman aiding, cheering it as thee ! A woman who would prize her liusband's fame, One who would yield her life for his fair name, 148 ♦ FAITH, Wlio'd gladly share his ev'ry triumph sweet, Whose heart unto his own would thrilling beat, And yet whose soul could ne'er be led away By glaring splendors lighting up his way From strictest path of duty ; one who'd prize His proud success as gift from out the sides, Yet, who amid its glories all the while Would far prefer her Saviour's loving smile To anything that earth could give — O ! I For such true being glad would live or die ! I feel that time could never, never bring, In all its sweep, on sad, disastrous wing A sorrow or a disappointment which His precious love could not away bewitch, And by its own undying faithfulness Still bid me struggle